


Destiny

by nakedrednailpolish



Category: Full House (US), Fuller House (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/F, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakedrednailpolish/pseuds/nakedrednailpolish
Summary: “Don't fight it, honey. It’s your destiny to spend your life with me.”Stephanie never really cared about the flower on her wrist or the soulmate it connected her to. For the first half of her life, she watched as friends and family members found their soulmates while she busied herself with flings and partying. So what happens when Stephanie moves back in with her sister and finds out her soulmate isn’t who anyone expected? Does it mean they’ll always be friends, or does Stephanie want more?





	1. happy birthday, here's your soulmate mark

**Author's Note:**

> literally no one asked for this but here we are
> 
> please enjoy

              For as long as she could remember, Dad had a tattoo of a swan on his wrist. It was small, but very pretty. One morning, when Stephanie was very young, Dad set her breakfast down in front of her and, in the process, she caught sight of the swan changing colors – a happy, pulsing sky blue.

              Awed, she asked him why it was doing that.

              He knelt beside her. “This is a Soulmate Mark. Mommy has the same one. When she’s feeling very happy, it turns light blue because that’s her favorite color.”

              Stephanie’s jaw dropped. “Wow! Can I have one?”

              Dad gently pinched her cheek. “You’ll get one the minute you turn sixteen.”

              She pulled his wrist closer so she could watch the color pulse. “Does it turn other colors?”

              Dad nodded. “If she’s really angry, it turns orange. She doesn’t like that color. If she’s sad, it’ll turn dark green.”

              It lit up again, the light blue almost glowing against Dad’s pale wrist. Stephanie gasped, amazed at the sight.

              “She’s happy!”

              Dad smiled. “Yes, she is.”

              Just then, the kitchen door swung open. Mommy came bursting into the room, donned in a floor-length red dress and beaming.

              “Danny! I just felt a kick!”

              Dad rushed to her side.

              “Really? That’s amazing!”

              Mommy grabbed Dad’s hand and pressed it against her bulging belly. After a few moments, his grin spread wide across his face.

              As Stephanie watched the exchange, she remembered Dad saying that Mommy had the same mark. Stephanie plopped on the ground and turned her head to an odd angle, straining to see her mother’s wrists.

              Finally, she spotted it – an identical swan, pulsing bright yellow.

              “Wow! You really _do_ have Soulmate Marks!”

              Realizing what her daughter was trying to do, Pam held out her arm so Stephanie could get a better look.

              Stephanie poked the yellow; Mommy’s skin was smooth, just like a regular tattoo, except this one changed colors.

              “This is amazing!”

              Mommy smiled at her. “Want to know something even more amazing?”

              Steph’s eyes bugged. There were _tattoos_ that _changed color_ – what could be more amazing than that?

              Mommy gently took Stephanie’s hand and placed it next to Dad’s. After several moments, Stephanie felt something hard bump against her hand.

              She gasped.

              “That’s your little brother or sister,” Mommy whispered excitedly.

              “Wow, that’s really a baby!”

              Just then, DJ came downstairs, and Mommy invited her into the mix. Stephanie couldn’t think of anything more exciting than this.

              A few months later, after the funeral, Stephanie caught her dad taking off a watch in his room. As he set it on his dresser, he held out his wrist and stared. The swan had faded from its original black to a faint, distant white.

*

              Uncle Jesse’s tattoo was an intricate, detailed heart surrounded by flames. The fact that it often lit up in reds, blues, and yellows never swayed him, however, from the belief that soulmates didn’t even exist.

              “That soulmate mumbo jumbo is a bunch of baloney. I don’t buy it,” he told her once when she asked about it. “Out of all the people in the world, I’m supposed to run into and fall in love with the one person who has the same tattoo as me?”

              “But it changes colors!”

              “Yeah, so?”

              Stephanie threw out her hands in exasperation.

              “ _So_ , that’s your soulmate! She’s feeling happy or sad or…”

              “Stephanie, my tattoo changes colors based on what _I’m_ feeling, or because of something I ate. After Joey made that terrible meatloaf, it turned yellow for days.”

              Stephanie narrowed her eyes. She’d seen the color changes herself! Why wouldn’t he believe in the soulmate connection?

              Uncle Jesse happily dated woman after woman, never caring whether they were his supposed “soulmate.” And the women were just as happy to date him – they may have their own soulmates, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t date a handsome, talented musician for a while first.

              A few weeks later, he met Rebecca – a smart, beautiful, and kind woman who always covered her left wrist with watches or bracelets. Many people, especially actors and folks on TV, kept their tattoos hidden to maintain privacy. An uncovered tattoo was an invitation to ask about it; a covered one meant that the topic was off the table. Most people covered their tattoos in public, unless they were soulmates who’d already found each other or single people actively searching for their soulmate. These were private things, intended for the eyes of a partner or close friends or family. Even Uncle Jesse, who didn’t believe in the soulmate magic, kept his covered. He claimed it was to keep away crazy fans and prevent people from asking about it, but Stephanie suspected that some small part of him actually believed in it, too.

              Becky was especially careful and private about her mark, wouldn’t show Jesse even after they started dating. It wasn’t until, over a year later, when Jesse got down on one knee and proposed to her – revealing his mark and emphasizing he didn’t care if they were soulmates or not – that she pulled up her sleeve, unclasped her watch, and revealed an identical flaming heart.

              As it turned out, the day Joey made his terrible meatloaf was the day Becky found out she’d get to host Wake Up, San Francisco.

              They danced to Elvis Presley’s “Burning Love” at the reception as their first married dance.

              Joey’s mark featured a beautiful, intricate fish, which he usually left uncovered out of sheer indifference. It changed colors a _lot_ , but he, like Jesse, cared very little about the whole soulmate thing. He didn’t deny that the tattoo was a connection to his soulmate, but he never seemed to care about whether or not he’d meet the corresponding person. Every time Steph brought it up, he dismissed her with a shrug or a disinterested comment.

              Danny hesitantly started dating again, keeping his faded mark uncovered and hoping his dates wouldn’t mind that they weren’t soulmates. This worked for small flings, but when relationships grew deeper, the women always left him to find their own soulmates. Stephanie felt sorry for him and, as she got older, wondered if he’d be able to find love again after Pam.

*

              Stephanie checked the time again: 1:16am. Smiling to herself, she leaned back in her bed and shined a flashlight against the blank inside of her left wrist, waiting.

              In seven minutes, she’d turn sixteen. In seven minutes, she’d get her mark.

              She bit her lip. What if she didn’t _have_ a soulmate? What if 1:23 came and went without a tattoo appearance? She tried to push the thought from her mind. No one _needed_ a soulmate. Thousands of people didn’t have marks, and were quite happy without them. Even many of those _with_ marks were happy without their soulmates, including Joey.

              Still, Stephanie couldn’t keep from worrying. Vicky loved Dad, loved their whole family. She didn’t seem to mind when Dad showed her his tattoo, even said “yes” when he proposed to her. Still, a few months later, Vicky admitted that if she married before finding her soulmate, she’d regret it. And just like that, she was gone. Would Stephanie face the same fate?

              Maybe she’d get a tattoo, but it would be something stupid.  What if it was a duck, or a toilet, or “pork fried rice” written in Japanese?

              She wondered if it would match someone she already knew. Would she recognize the symbol?

              Glancing to her nightstand, she watched the clock change from 1:22 to 1:23. She stared nervously at her wrist.

              For a moment, nothing happened, and Stephanie really _did_ begin to wonder if something had gone wrong.

              But then, black ink slowly began to appear on that blank expanse of skin, and excitement pulsed through her. She leaned forward, watching as lines faded in and solidified. Her Soulmate Mark.

              After a few moments, the complete tattoo had set in her skin. Stephanie had never seen a drawing so beautiful: an ornate, delicate flower, with spotted petals and tiny pistils. She didn’t know what kind of flower it was, only that it was stunning, and that this meant:  yes, she _did_ indeed have a soulmate.

              It didn’t change colors, which didn’t surprise Stephanie since it was 1:24am, and, assuming her soulmate lived on the same continent she did, he’d probably be fast asleep.

              However, the next morning, she woke up to a rainbow of colors. Reds and blues and greens and yellows flashed before her eyes, sending a warm, happy feeling straight to her gut. Her soulmate was happy. It couldn’t mean anything else.

              Stephanie watched the colors until they faded, then threw on a thick-banded watch to cover the tattoo and readied herself for school. Downstairs, her whole family sans a college-bound DJ wished her a happy birthday, but none mentioned the watch or her possible tattoo. During school, friends offered ‘Happy Birthday’s, accompanied by quick, blatant glances to her wrist. Everyone knew it would now be marked. Or that it wouldn’t.

              “Did you get one?” Gia asked excitedly as she approached her.

              Stephanie glanced around for eavesdroppers before grinning and lowering her voice. “Yes.”

              Gia squealed. She’d had her tattoo for two years, had already shown Steph the bolt of lightning once when they were hanging out.

              “Can I see it? I mean, only if you want to…”

              “Yeah, after school.”

              Throughout the day, Steph fought the urge to check her tattoo. She didn’t want to broadcast the image – for now, this secret was all her own, she didn’t want to share it just yet – but she was curious about her soulmate. How was he feeling? Could he have known that Steph got her tattoo last night?

              Maybe he was younger. Maybe her soulmate didn’t even _have_ his tattoo yet. Either way, she was dying to know what other colors she’d see, if the rainbow would reappear.

              She wished she knew which emotions matched each color. There were theories about how colors worked, generally aligning with the soulmate’s preferences and the moods they associated colors with, but Stephanie had no idea which colors her soulmate liked or how he felt about them.

              Later, in Stephanie’s bedroom, the girls shut the door for privacy and sat on Stephanie’s bed. Steph carefully removed the watch, sending herself back into a state of awe as she admired the art for the third time that day.

              She held it out so Gia could see. “Wow. It’s beautiful.” Gia ran her fingertip over the lines. “Did it change colors yet?”

              Stephanie smiled. “Well, this morning, it was kind of rainbow-colored.”

              “Rainbow-colored?”

              “Yeah. I think it means he’s happy. I don’t think it could mean anger or sadness.”

              “I’ve never heard of a tattoo being rainbow-colored.”

              Stephanie shrugged, just as perplexed as her friend. “Maybe he can’t pick a favorite. Or maybe he likes it better when the colors are blended together.”

              “Yeah, maybe.”

              Just then, Gia’s tattoo started turning pink.

              “Oh, look! Your soulmate is happy!”

              Blushing, Gia watched her tattoo as it turned a bright shade of hot pink.

              Stephanie smirked at her reaction. “You still can’t get over the fact that _that’s_ your soulmate’s favorite color, can you?”

              Gia rolled her eyes. “What guy’s favorite color is hot pink?”

              “It could be a girl,” Stephanie suggested.

              “But I’m not gay. I like guys.”

              “You could be bi.”

              Gia watched the pink for a few more seconds before re-covering it with the leather cuff she always wore.

              “Nah. I bet it’s a gay guy.”

              Stephanie watched Gia fasten the leather bracelet and thought. “I read stories in the newspaper about how ‘soulmate’ could mean your closest and truest friend. It doesn’t have to be romantic.”

              Gia stood and turned to the mirror, fluffing her brunette hair and checking her makeup.

              “Yeah, but I want _romance_. I want a romantic soulmate.” She paused as she wiped a smudge of eyeliner from the corner of her eye. “And besides, it’s not like that happens a lot. They’re usually romantic. Your future husband or wife.”

              Stephanie joined her at the mirror, brushing out her long blonde hair.

              “Just ‘cause a guy likes pink doesn’t mean he’s gay.”

              Gia paused to shoot Steph a look.

              “C’mon, Steph. Name one straight guy who loves pink.”

              Stephanie fell silent. She tried to come up with another theory.

              “Maybe pink doesn’t mean happy. Maybe it’s anger. Some people _hate_ pink.”     

              Gia shrugged. “I don’t know. Pink is a very _specific_ color.” She leaned in to examine her makeup, then pulled away and asked, “Can I borrow that eyeliner I like?”

*

              That night, DJ called to sing Stephanie happy birthday. Steph knew what was coming, and planned ahead of time what she’d say when DJ asked. Even in college, her sister would find a way to meddle. DJ loved a good puzzle – every time she saw Stephanie, she’d dive into the latest details of her own Spectacular Soulmate Search, talking about the guys she’d met, which ones were the cutest, and whom she’d convinced to reveal their marks. So far, she hasn’t had any luck. Not even Steve’s tattoo matched – in fact, that’s what sparked their breakup after high school. DJ didn’t want to keep their relationship going if there was a chance that there was someone else out there for her.

              “So,” DJ probed, “did you get a tattoo?”

              Steph’s stomach filled with nerves – excitement and embarrassment flooding through her all at once. “Yeah.”

              “Oooh, yay! What is it?”

              Twirling the phone cord around her finger, Stephanie took a deep breath and said, “It’s a bird.”

              Stephanie knew that even if she told DJ not to meddle, her older sister would find a way. If Stephanie lied, her mark could remain a secret. At least until she felt like sharing.

              “Oooh, what kind?”

              “It’s… it’s a robin. It’s really pretty.”

              “A bird, just like Dad! Maybe your soulmate likes birds. Or the outdoors. Or maybe it symbolizes something. We’ll have to go to the library sometime and check out a book on…”

              “Deej,” Stephanie interrupted.

              “… bird symbolism, or maybe a Soulmate Mark decryptor, or…”

              “DJ, hold on.”

              DJ paused mid-sentence. “What’s up?”

              “I… I don’t really want to look into it. Please don’t waste your time going to the library or looking for robins. I just want to, I don’t know, keep it a secret for now. Live my life.”

              “Why? Don’t you want to learn about your soulmate? Maybe meet him?”

              “Not really. I’m not like you, DJ. I don’t want to know.” This, too, was a lie. Steph _was_ curious, but she knew DJ would take matters in her own hands no matter what. She wanted to discover its meaning for herself, even if it meant sending DJ on a wild goose chase. “If I meet someone and they have the same mark, fine. But I’m just not interested in it.”

              “But – ”

              “No buts. Please, DJ, promise me you won’t go looking into it.”

              DJ grumbled on the other end. “Fine. But if you change your mind, I’d love to help you!”

              “Okay, if that happens – _if_ ,” she emphasized, “you’ll be the first to know.”

              “Great.”

              “Hey, how’s it going with Mark?” she asked, desperate to divert the attention away from her own mark.

              “Oh, I got him to show me his tattoo!”

              Stephanie sat back in relief as DJ went into detail about Mark’s tattoo reveal, which resulted in DJ’s disappointment.

*

              A month later, Steph called DJ on her birthday. She waited until mid-afternoon, assuming DJ had gone out to drink at midnight for her 21st.

              Before she could sing, however, DJ exclaimed, “I found my soulmate! I found him!”

              Pulling the phone away from her ear, Stephanie waited for DJ to stop shouting to answer.

              “Really? That’s great. Who is it?”

              Stephanie could almost see DJ’s grin through the phone as she gushed about a firefighter named Tommy. He had blonde hair, a short beard, and impressive muscles. They shared love for animals and charity and the _Friends_ TV show.

              After twenty minutes of DJ’s love-struck babbling, Stephanie finally got to squeeze in a, “That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you.”

              DJ paused. “Thank you. I am too.”

              Two months after that, Stephanie sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine while waiting for DJ to come home. She’d be bringing Tommy home for the first time, and the whole house had been buzzing about it for weeks.  Even Joey, who still felt indifferent towards his own soulmate, and Uncle Jesse, despite his insistence that soulmates didn’t matter, were excited to meet the guy DJ was dating. Maybe it was more to do with the fact that DJ was simply _dating_ someone for the first time after years of dating Steve. Either way, the family was excited, and Stephanie found herself getting excited, too, if only to meet the guy who would finally put DJ’s Spectacular Soulmate Search – and her constant babbling about it – to rest.

              Finally, the front door opened. Stephanie hopped up to greet her sister, and –

              “Hola, Tanneritos!”

              Stephanie blew out a puff of air and tilted her head to the side. It had been a relaxing few months without hearing _that_ phrase every other day.

              “Gibbler, what are you doing here?”

              Apparently, college had failed to change Kimmy even a little bit. Her auburn hair held back by a multi-colored hairband, a polka-dotted shirt, and a donut-patterned skirt signaled that Kimmy’s style remained the same.

              “Meeting DJ’s hot-slab-of-beef-slash-soulmate. What are you doing here?”

              Stephanie blinked, deadpan. “I live here.”

              Kimmy threw her head back in a laugh and descended the landing steps. “Oh Stephanie, I forgot how funny you are! Gimme a hug!”

              Stephanie cringed as Kimmy engulfed her in a hug that squeezed all of the air out of her lungs.

              “Can’t – breathe – ”

              “Aw, I missed you, too!”

              Finally, Kimmy released her, and she took the opportunity to shout, “Dad! The circus is in town!”

              “Oooh, the circus is in town?” Kimmy asked, suddenly excited. “We should all go together! I love when the monkeys dress in little suits and ride the elephants.”

              Raising her eyebrow at Kimmy, Stephanie tried to think of a response, but luckily, Danny burst through the kitchen door at that exact moment.

              “Since when do you care if the circus is – oh.” Danny came to a halt, eyeing Kimmy up and down with distaste. “Hi, Kimmy.”

              “Hey, Mr. T!” Before he could protest, Kimmy had him locked in a tight hug, too. “Oh, I missed that smell – citrus cologne with a hint of,” she buried her nose into his shoulder and sniffed, “Lemon Pledge?”

              Danny stared at her for a moment and sighed, extracting himself from her grip. “Missed you, too.” He bypassed her and approached Stephanie. “Have you heard from your sister? She should be here any minute.”

              Eleven-year-old Michelle descended the steps in a hurry. “She just pulled into the driveway!”

              The rest of the family gathered together to wait by the door. A few moments passed, and then DJ was home again. A chorus of greetings ensued, Danny moving to hug his daughter first but Kimmy sprinting forward to take the honor instead.

              After the first few initial hugs, DJ motioned for her family to step back. “Everyone, this is Tommy,” she began, reaching for the hand of the man just behind her – a handsome, _muscly_ man, Stephanie noticed. DJ’s eyes sparkled as they met his, and Stephanie could tell that her sister was already head-over-heels in love with the guy. “… my _soulmate_.”

              Tommy shyly smiled as he glanced around the room and gave a little wave. “Hi.”

              The family greeted him just as warmly as they had DJ and escorted him into the kitchen where Danny had dinner cooking. As they talked, Stephanie was pleasantly surprised to find that Tommy was just as kind and thoughtful and considerate as DJ described. She half-expected that DJ, in her haste to find her soulmate, would willingly date a jackass if only because their tattoos matched (and she probably would have). Luckily, Tommy fit right into the Tanner family, returning just as many hugs as were offered – and there were _many_ hugs.

              Including several muscle-appreciation hugs from one Kimmy Gibbler.

              As everyone else fawned over Tommy and his firefighting stories, DJ pulled Stephanie aside to pester her about her Soulmate Mark.

              “C’mon, let me see it!”

              “No.”

              “Please?”

              “No!”

              Later, during dinner, DJ brought up a story about one of her vet classes, using it to segue into announcing at the table:

              “Did you guys _know_ that the robin symbolizes passion and honor? Some say it also signifies renewal or rebirth due to its assoc – ow!”

              Stephanie lifted her foot off of DJ’s and pretended as if she hadn’t noticed.

              “Have you learned about _snakes_ yet, Deej?”

              Tommy and the rest of the family watched their exchange with confusion, but Kimmy, oblivious, offered her own thoughts.

              “Oh! I know this one. Snakes symbolize fertility, healing, or rebirth. They can also mean evil, trickery, or deceit.”

              Stephanie pointed at Kimmy to validate her point. “Yeah! My English teacher said that if a character really likes snakes, it means they’re probably up to something.” She turned back to DJ, “…and are _not_ to be trusted.”

              “My brother Jimmy has a python, an iguana, and a bearded dragon. Do you think that means anything?”

              Stephanie blinked at her. “I think it means your brother likes reptiles.”

              After dinner, Stephanie confronted DJ alone in one of the bedrooms.

              “I told you not to go searching!”

              “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I just – “

              Stephanie put on her best mocking tone. “Did you guys _know_ that the robin symbolizes _blah, blah, blah_ …”

              DJ sighed. “Okay, I may have done a _little_ research.”

              “You’re lucky that no one mentioned it. You practically gave it away!”

              “What’s so wrong with people knowing your tattoo? Everyone knows mine is…”

              “… _a beagle with a patch over its left eye,_ yes, we all know that. Everyone knows that. Even the _mail lady_ knows that.” Stephanie crossed her arms. “You have no respect for me or my privacy.”

              “This coming from the girl who used to read my diary every chance she could get.”

              “That’s completely different.”

              “How is that different?” DJ challenged before switching tactics. “And why would you want to keep it private? Don’t you want to find your soulmate?”

              “Yes, but that’s _my_ choice, _my_ decision whether to share or keep it hidden. It’s none of your business.”

              “Girls,” Danny called. Stephanie realized they’d both raised their voices. “Is everything okay up here?” He stood in the doorway and shot them a concerned look.

              “Everything’s fine,” Stephanie grumbled, crossing her arms and brushing past him to descend the steps.

              She found the rest of the family gathered in the living room, trying to decide on a movie to watch. Currently, the top contenders were _Jumanji_ and _Matilda_.

              “I’ll make some popcorn,” she volunteered, not quite caring what movie they watched so long as DJ sat as far away from her as possible.

              In the kitchen, she crouched into a squat and dug around the lower cupboards for popcorn, nearly banging her head when she noticed Kimmy standing over her.

              “Gibbler! Don’t sneak up on people like that.”

              “Sorry, kid, just wanted to see if your dad had any hot sauce for the popcorn.”

              Stephanie spotted the popcorn and rose from her position, propping a hand on her hip. “First of all, I’m not a kid anymore. And second…” She made a face at Kimmy’s bizarre snack choice. “Ew!”

              Completely ignoring Stephanie’s response, Kimmy’s eyes zeroed in on Stephanie’s covered wrist and widened in realization.

              “Oh, that’s right! DJ told me you got your Soulmate Mark. Can I see it?”

              Stephanie lifted an eyebrow. While most teenagers abided by the covered-mark-off-limits rule, it wasn’t uncommon for friends to ask each other about their marks.

              But she and Kimmy weren’t friends. And though Kimmy’s brashness didn’t surprise her, Stephanie wasn’t in the mood to share. Especially with DJ breathing down her neck as she was.

              She jutted her chin and took a step back for good measure. “Uh, who locked me out of the bedroom when you and DJ talked about _your_ marks?”

              Kimmy lifted a shoulder. “Fair enough.” As she opened an overhead cabinet and rummaged around, Stephanie silently puzzled over how easy that had been.

              She studied her for a moment before curiosity got the better of her. “Any luck meeting yours?”

              Kimmy peeked around the door at her, seeming surprised that Stephanie would even ask. After a moment, she disappeared again and resumed her rummaging.

              “Not yet. I’m hoping it’s one of the guys on the wrestling team.” She closed the cabinet and wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis. “Yum- _my_.”

              Stephanie smirked. “I bet it’s one of the band geeks.”

              Kimmy tilted her head and smiled lustfully, a far cry from the horrified expression Stephanie expected.

              “Actually, college band is way different than high school.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “They’re actually _hot_ there.”

              Stephanie shook her head. “I highly doubt that.”

              “No, really! Marching every day in the hot sun, the guys with their shirts off and the girls in sports bras and shorts. You should see the muscles…”

              Stephanie’s heart sped up. Was Kimmy just appreciating _everyone’s_ … or was she implying…?

              She fumbled with the packages of popcorn in her hands, not wanting to pry or give herself away but also desperately wanting to know. If _anyone_ was qu – well, it’d probably be Kimmy.

              “Even the girls?”

              The question was subtle enough. Kimmy’s obliviousness remained unmatched to anyone Stephanie’s ever met.

              “Yeah, it’s crazy!” As she reached for the next cabinet, she sighed wistfully. “The color guard girls are so hot.”

              And they weren’t very close – not even friends, Stephanie reminded herself – so this was _definitely_ beyond anything they’d ever talked about together without DJ present – but she figured that Kimmy wouldn’t have brought it up if it made her uncomfortable. Not that there was much that made Kimmy uncomfortable. In fact, Kimmy seemed to be quite blasé around the whole thing.

              So Stephanie prodded further, playing it off as a joke in case Kimmy hadn’t meant to let her attraction slip. She tossed a bag of popcorn in the microwave and chuckled. “So you’d be cool if your soulmate was one of the color guard girls?”

              Kimmy shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m keeping my options open.”

              And _damn_ did Stephanie want that confidence. As annoying as Kimmy’s self-assuredness was on an everyday basis, Stephanie suddenly found herself a little jealous that Kimmy could say something like that so casually, to someone she only bickered with, to someone who only tolerated her because of her sister.

              “Does DJ know you’re ‘keeping your options open’?”

              Extracting a bottle of hot sauce from the shelf, Kimmy closed the cabinet and turned to lean her back against the counter.

              “No,” she said simply, taking a moment to pick at the label of the bottle. “I don’t think she’d care – I mean, we live in San Francisco.” She returned her gaze to Stephanie. “She just doesn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway.”

              Stephanie nodded, unsure how this conversation was happening with _her_ and not DJ but wanting to reassure Kimmy nonetheless. Why would Kimmy tell her something that she hadn’t even told DJ?

              Except Stephanie knew. It’s the same reason she hadn’t told DJ about her _own_ confusing feelings.

              “I get that.”

              She thought about telling her – about the butterflies in her stomach when she looked at the girl in her trig class, about a disorienting truth or dare kiss, about the confusion these thoughts gave her considering she _definitely_ liked boys…

              She almost said something, even opened her mouth to speak, when DJ barged into the kitchen and set her sights on them.

              “There you two are! Nicky and Alex want to watch _Jumanji_ – we’re about to start.”

              Kimmy grinned at her best friend – the tension from their previous conversation practically evaporating – and held up the hot sauce like a trophy. “I’m good to go!”

              DJ rolled her eyes at Kimmy’s quirkiness before gesturing to Stephanie. “Do you mind if I talk to Stephanie alone for a minute?”

              “Sure, no problem!” Kimmy replied. “I’m gonna go ask your soulmate if he wants some hot sauce for his popcorn.” With that, she disappeared into the living room, and Stephanie pitied whoever it was out there in the world who’d wind up with Kimmy for a soulmate.

              DJ approached her, and Stephanie pointedly turned away.

              “I’m not talking to you.”

              She felt a hand on her shoulder and shook it off. How the heck did _Kimmy Gibbler_ respect her privacy when her own sister wouldn’t?

              DJ sighed. “I don’t mean to breach your privacy or betray your trust.”

              Stephanie counted the seconds between pops, pulled the bag out of the microwave, and replaced it with a new one, avoiding eye contact.

              “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

              Taking her time to pour the popped popcorn into a bowl, Stephanie considered how to respond. “You know what would make me happy?”

              DJ reached out and held the bowl still for her. “What?”

              “For you to let this subject drop.”

              Stephanie didn’t shoo her away, but she could tell that DJ still _really_ wanted to find the supposed man with a robin tattoo.

              “Okay.” DJ sighed and threw her hands in the air in surrender. “I won’t bring it up again.”

              “Thank you.”

              Just then, Tommy slipped through the kitchen door to check on them. “Hey, how are you ladies doing in here?”

              “Good,” they answered together.

              “I’m just helping Stephanie with the popcorn,” DJ added.

              He walked over to them and asked, “Anything I can do to help?”

              Stephanie smirked. “Is this your way of hiding from everyone out there?”

              Tommy chuckled. “Let’s see… your _uncle’s_ giving me hair tips,” he ticked off a finger. “… Your _aunt_ keeps telling me I have great muscles – I think she’s hitting on me,” he ticked another finger. “Joey wants me to meet some guy named… Mr. Woodchuck? Kimmy keeps asking if I know any hot, single firefighters…” He tilted his head and offered a half smile at DJ. “And your _dad_ wants me to help him vacuum the fridge tomorrow.”

              “Yep,” Stephanie grinned, “that sounds about right.”

              DJ leaned in and pecked him on the lips. “That means they like you.”

              Stephanie stepped closer to Tommy, eyeing him up and down.

              “So, you’re DJ’s soulmate.”

              Tommy beamed. “Yes, I am.”

              Steph leaned in and stage-whispered, “Blink three times if you need help.”

              DJ smacked her on the shoulder with a potholder while Tommy laughed, threw an arm around his girlfriend, and squeezed her to his side.

              “I don’t need help. I’m in love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you told me ten years ago that i'd be writing f/f full house fan fiction, my closeted ass would have laughed at you and then asked what f/f fan fiction meant
> 
> anyways this pairing needs more fics and i already have a lot written (currently 25k+) so i'm excited to get it out there!
> 
> please let me know if you like it!


	2. a gibbler sort of wedding and a soulmate's funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn. Kissing girls was just as good as kissing guys.

              Stephanie graduated high school and headed for college.

              Midway through October, she found herself at another frat party, staring at a gorgeous redhead on the dance floor. She thought she recognized her from somewhere. Maybe from one of the clubs Stephanie had thought about joining? A class?

              Damn, this chick was _pretty_. Mascara accentuated her lashes as she closed her eyes; curvy hips bounced back and forth to the beat; a crop top revealed her tiny stomach and a belly button ring that glinted in the low party light; crimson lips widened into a smile when she locked eyes with Stephanie from across the room.

              _Oh_. Stephanie felt a wave of embarrassment as she finally recognized the girl – the chick who showed up early to their 8am calculus class, sat in the front row, and somehow even sported a full face of makeup every session. Stephanie, on the other hand, wore sweats almost daily and usually showed up ten minutes into lecture.

              Before she knew what she was doing, Stephanie joined her in the middle of the room, moving in closer and closer with every song. Soon, her arms had somehow made their way around the girl’s neck as they swayed back and forth to the beat.

              “Want to get a drink?” the girl asked. Stephanie nodded. Anything to stay by her side.

              They made their way to the drink table, and the girl pulled two beers out of the ice, passing one to Stephanie.

              “I’m Sarah,” she said. Mesmerized by her beauty, Stephanie almost forgot to reply.

              “Oh, I’m Stephanie.”

              Sarah ran her fingertips down Stephanie’s forearm, sending goosebumps up and down Steph’s body. She took Stephanie’s hand and pulled her toward a less crowded part of the room, near a wall.

              “You’re really pretty,” Stephanie commented. “Gorgeous. Pretty. Hair.” _Smooth, Steph_ , a part of her brain chided. The other part of her brain – the drunk part – didn’t care that she wasn’t making sense. Instead, she reached out and stroked Sarah’s pretty, pretty red hair.

              Sarah was close, very close, their bodies merely inches apart, when Sarah leaned forward and purred into Stephanie’s ear, “Wanna make out?”

              Stephanie didn’t hesitate. She captured fire engine lips in her dry, chapped ones and kissed. Sarah’s lips were soft, tasting like watermelon lip balm and beer. Sarah’s hands found Stephanie’s ass, and Steph’s fingers disappeared in fiery red hair.

              Damn. Kissing girls was _just as good as kissing guys_.

              She didn’t notice the football players cheering until they broke apart a couple of minutes later. Whoops and hollers surrounded them as Sarah winked at her and turned to the crowd. One of the athletes – Stephanie had no idea who – stepped forward and offered a hand to Sarah, who took it and pulled him to another corner of the room, where the two of them began to make out as well.

              Stephanie’s heart fell with disappointment. It was all a _show_. For the _guys_. Sarah didn’t actually want to kiss _her_.

              Although she probably shouldn’t have, she made out with Sarah again the next week, at a party Friday night. At that party, one of the guys approached Stephanie afterwards, and she stopped thinking about Sarah.

              Over the next few months, Stephanie slowly came to terms with the idea that she was bisexual. She didn’t think much about her mark, though it still burst with color when her soulmate was happy. Sometimes it turned orange or magenta. Stephanie couldn’t tell the difference between the emotions, but nevertheless, her heart panged when they showed up. Even though she had no idea who he – or she – was, it still upset her to know that, when those colors showed up, her soulmate was hurting.

              She’d finally taken it upon herself to research what kind of flower it was. It took a couple of hours and some deep library digging, but she finally found it – a jasmine, symbolizing beauty, good luck, and sweet love.

*

              Come spring, Stephanie visited home again for DJ’s wedding. Tommy couldn’t have been more handsome in his navy blue tux, and DJ seemed to sparkle in her beautiful white dress. Throughout the ceremony, their matching beagle tattoos practically glowed with their happiness – DJ’s a grassy green and Tommy’s a sapphire blue.

              Kimmy brought some annoying dude named Fernando, who showed up in a head-to-toe salmon-colored suit. They’d met a few months ago – apparently Fernando was Kimmy’s newest barber. Stephanie, going off of what little information she had, assumed he was gay until, at the reception, he pulled Kimmy onto the dance floor during a romantic ballad.

              Fernando couldn’t help inserting himself into every situation, and he bragged about his racecar skills to whoever he could get to listen. Stephanie couldn’t see how Kimmy could be smitten by him – besides the fact that they seemed to match each other in levels of dramatic flair – but she seemed happy so Stephanie didn’t question it.

              Stephanie spent the next two years partying more than studying, yet somehow she pulled a 3.4 GPA at the end of junior year. More importantly, she made out with dozens of partygoers, both men and women, regardless of those partygoers’ sexualities (and whether or not those sexualities were influenced by alcohol). Sometimes people left their tattoos uncovered, though they never matched Stephanie’s jasmine. Occasionally, she wondered whether her soulmate was at the party, whether the next person she made out with had a tattoo identical to hers, but for the most part, Stephanie found herself caring very little. After all, she wasn’t in a place to settle. She wasn’t looking for monogamy or long-lasting love – just a good time.

              Kimmy asked her to be a bridesmaid at her wedding, and though the two had their fair share of bickering and insults, Stephanie couldn’t say no to such an honor.

              She _could_ ditch the bachelorette party for an even _better_ time, though.

              Gia texted her two days prior, telling her that her parents were taking the baby for the night and _shit, steph, I haven’t partied in sooo long_ and really, Stephanie had no impulse control when it came to parties.

              She showed up to the Tanner household, where she met up with DJ, Kimmy’s sisters, a couple of friends, and the bride-to-be herself, whose sleeveless dress had a cat’s head as the torso, a flowing, long skirt that accentuated her baby bump, and black fuzz along the hem. The other women had already adorned her with a glittery bachelorette crown and pink sash.

              “Wow, you are... _pregnant_.”

              Kimmy beamed. “Only six weeks to go! We’re so excited.” She tugged Stephanie in for a hug over her belly, and Stephanie tried to ignore how she wanted to throttle Kimmy for doing so.

              They headed out to a club and ate as much as they could – sharing mozzarella sticks and chicken wings and pretzel bites and downing every last piece of junk food. After all, Kimmy couldn’t drink, so the next best thing was pigging out on every delicious thing they could order.

              Then there was dancing. Kimmy, despite being thirty-four weeks pregnant, managed to not only waddle over to the dance floor, but pull out all of her best dance moves. Stephanie laughed along with the others, almost not believing she was having this much fun at _Gibbler’s_ bachelorette party.

              A buzzing in her pocket reminded Stephanie about Gia’s party, so she feigned jet lag and bowed out. She changed in the cab, arriving in her best party dress – a short black number that drew every eye, male or female, to Stephanie’s rocking bod.

              “Looking hot, Steph,” Gia commented, donned in a subtler, violet dress.

              “You, too.” Stephanie indicated the crowd with her chin. “So which one is the baby daddy you eloped with?”

              Gia indicated a tall, attractive man across the room, dark hair and goatee only accentuating his good looks.

              “ _Him_?” Stephanie pointed. “God, with his DNA mixed with yours, that baby’s gonna _so_ hot when she grows up.”

              “Hey, hey, let’s not jump the gun with my four-month-old _infant_.”

              “Are you denying it?”

              “No, she’s definitely gonna be a knockout.”

              Stephanie fell quiet for a moment, unsure if she should ask what she wanted to ask.

              Gia glanced at her and seemed to read her mind. “No, he’s not my soulmate. But he’s a good guy, and he’s the father of my child, so I don’t see why I have to wait around for someone who may _never_ show up when I have a great guy right here.”

              Stephanie nodded, though she wondered if Gia’s soulmate would be upset to find out she’d already gotten married.

              An hour later, thoughts of soulmates and family had completely flown from her mind as she downed shots and margaritas like there was no tomorrow.

              Except there _was_ a tomorrow, and when she woke up on Gia’s couch the next morning an hour before the wedding was supposed to start, she swore and immediately called a cab. Traffic would probably be a nightmare. On her way out, she downed a shot of whiskey to stave off the headache. Probably a bad choice, but hey, she’d be drinking wine in a couple of hours anyway, so what did it matter?

              As an afterthought, she swiped a bottle of water, too.

              Her cab waited outside the door. She dove into the backseat and hastily changed into the outfit Kimmy had picked out – a hideous, puffy, fuchsia bridesmaid’s dress.

              Luckily, she also had time to touch up her makeup and down half of the water before sprinting across Golden Gate Park to meet a frazzled DJ inside a white wedding tent.

              “Where have you been?” DJ scolded, bouncing a five-month-old Jackson on her hip.

              “Sorry,” Stephanie said, glancing around the tent to see Mrs. Gibbler fussing over Kimmy in one corner, as well as Kimmy’s older sisters and a little girl holding a basket of… walnuts? Where were the flower petals?

              “Steph, you made it!” Kimmy exclaimed, pushing her mother aside to stand and waddle over to her bridesmaid. She pulled Stephanie in for another hug over top of her watermelon belly.

              Stephanie gestured toward the flower girl. “Walnuts?”

              “Yeah, like the baby! Our little walnut…” Kimmy smiled and rubbed her stomach.

              Stephanie fought back a retort about the real walnut being Kimmy’s _brain_ – as much as she loved to tease Kimmy, she didn’t want to make fun of the bride on her special day.

              As for the bride herself, if Stephanie didn’t know any better, she might not have recognized the fully-grown woman in front of her as DJ’s awkward, annoying, teenage bird-legs of a best friend. She had the same strawberry blonde hair, pulled back into an elaborate up-do and finished off with a sparkling tiara, as well as the same crystal blue eyes, bursting with excitement like always. This Kimmy Gibbler wasn’t awkward or gangly – Stephanie had to admit that she was absolutely _owning_ her shotgun wedding and looking absolutely beautiful in the process.

              The wedding continued to be, well, a _Gibbler_ sort of wedding. The officiant wore what appeared to be a toga and towered over everyone on a pair of stilts for the duration of the ceremony. The guests sat on blankets and pillows in the grass, and after the officiant proclaimed the couple husband and wife, someone released a boxful of pigeons into the air.

              “They were out of doves,” Kimmy explained later at the reception, “so we did the next best thing.”

              “And… _pigeons_ were the next best thing?” Stephanie questioned.

              Kimmy didn’t seem to hear her, though, as her new husband interjected and asked if he could whisk her away for another dance.

              Stephanie watched them move together across the floor – a bit awkwardly due to the belly, but somehow with both of Kimmy’s hands tightly squeezing Fernando’s ass. Stephanie wondered if she’d ever get to do that with _her_ soulmate (well, maybe with less of the butt-grabbing). She hadn’t cared for years, but yet… suddenly she worried that not caring had caused her to miss her shot. Would she _ever_ meet her soulmate? What if she’d met them already but neither knew about it because everyone _covered their damn tattoos_? Whose bright idea was that, anyways?

              Maybe her soulmate had already gotten married – Gia didn’t seem to care about meeting _her_ soulmate.

              Or maybe her soulmate was a woman. In that case, marriage wasn’t even part of the question. Would they even _have_ a ceremony?

              Of course, as she continued reminding herself, soulmates could be platonic, too; however, a voice in the back of her head – namely, Gia’s voice – whispered, ‘I want a _romantic_ soulmate. I want romance.’ And Stephanie couldn’t find it in herself to disagree.

              She watched Fernando twirl Kimmy around, noticing for the first time that both of their left wrists were covered – Kimmy with white silk fabric tied around her wrist and Fernando with a wide, golden watch. That was telling, given most soulmates tended to brag about their shared tattoos to the rest of the world. If _Kimmy_ freaking _Gibbler_ could get married without a soulmate, who’s to say Stephanie’s soulmate wasn’t already married?

              She spotted Kimmy’s teenage brother on the dance floor, busting out goofy moves to make his young niece – the flower girl – laugh.

              Maybe her soulmate still didn’t have their mark yet. Could she have been seeing their emotions all this time while they still remained clueless?

              Stephanie fiddled with her bracelet, wondering what her soulmate was up to. They could be at this very wedding, for all she knew.

              Later that night, as Stephanie crawled into bed, she finally took off her bracelet, and, to her amazement, watched a multitude of colors dance across her Soulmate Mark.

*

              In November, Michelle got her mark. She followed Stephanie’s example, denying the whole family, including Stephanie, access to her tattoo. All of them were too likely to meddle.

              During her senior year, Stephanie’s friends realized she had a knack for running the music at parties. Everyone wanted to give _her_ the aux cable. Now that she was 21, she and her friends also frequented bars, where friends of friends would convince the DJs to show her the ropes. A few even let her take over for a couple of songs. From there, the rest, as they say, was history.

              At one party, Stephanie made out with a particularly gorgeous brunette who had intricate, beautiful tattoo sleeves and a cute pixie cut. Halfway through their make-out session, as Stephanie began another trail of kisses down Kylee’s neck, she spotted an abnormal turquoise-green color out of the corner of her eye. Leaning back to investigate, her jaw dropped as she realized that Kylee’s tattoos had taken on a light green hue all the way up and down her arms.

              “Holy cheese,” Stephanie whispered. “What…? How…?”

              Kylee eyed Stephanie for a moment, seeming to enjoy the awed look on her face.

              “You didn’t know that other tattoos change color, too?”

              Stephanie blinked. “Does your soulmate have the same tattoo sleeves?”

              Rubbing her arm, Kylee shifted her position and glanced to the ceiling. After a moment, she made eye contact again.

              “No, she doesn’t.”

              Stephanie took in the tattoos more thoroughly now, the flowers and swirls and quotes that Kylee had chosen, all shining green against her skin. None of her family members had tattoos, except for Uncle Jesse, who had a detailed, wing-like sketch on his left bicep. Now that she thought about it, maybe Jesse’s tattoo _did_ change colors. How had she never noticed until now? Perhaps because his tattoo paled in comparison to these sleeves. Stephanie couldn’t imagine wearing her soulmate’s emotions on her arms like that for everyone to see. How bold was that? Not to mention, how would a soulmate feel, knowing their emotions were plastered across someone’s _whole body_ – not just a wrist – for strangers to know?

              Catching onto what Kylee had said, Stephanie pressed for more. “She doesn’t? You know who she is? And you’re here with… me?”

              Kylee rolled her eyes, black eyeliner standing out against the whites of her eyes. “It’s complicated.” She ran a hand through Stephanie’s hair, stroked a thumb across her cheek, and leaned in close. “Let’s just have some fun.”

              Kylee captured Stephanie’s lips in her own, and _damn_ , Stephanie just wanted to melt into this woman, and really, who was she to tell this near-stranger how to navigate soulmates or relationships?

              So Stephanie dropped the soulmate subject and let herself enjoy the woman’s kisses, though she still found her eyes drifting to the pretty light green of Kylee’s arms every now again, amazed that a pair of soulmates had met and… seemingly _didn’t_ wind up together? Sure, Stephanie wasn’t really _looking_ for her soulmate, but she couldn’t imagine finding that person and deciding _not_ to stay with them.

              A few weeks later, she grit her teeth through the stinging on her ankle. A ladybug.

*

              Vivian, an international student from England and one of Stephanie’s closest friends, invited her to come back to London with her. Stephanie accepted, and her disc jockey career took off. She spent most of her time in the party scene, spinning at clubs and networking and eventually climbing the social ladder. Soon, she was meeting celebrities and travelling to different countries and boarding planes on a whim, all because of her fame as “DJ Tanner.” She had sex with all sorts of people – men, women, folks who didn’t speak English, and, once, a mime.

              “Come on, Steph, keep up!”

              Stephanie adjusted her grip on the paper bags she was carrying.

              “Hey, maybe if _someone_ helped me carry this, I’d be able to walk a little faster.”

              Shannon whirled to face her. “Oh, c’mon, it’s not _that_ heavy, is it?”

              Stephanie shot her a look, and, knowing that look meant trouble, Shannon gave in, relieving Stephanie of one of the bags as they sped down the sidewalk.

              “Where exactly are we taking this again?”

              “Jonathan’s. He asked if we could pick up a few handles on our way.”

              “Right.” Stephanie glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, admiring Shannon’s long, slender legs as they strode along. “And who is Jonathan again?”

              Shannon let out a groan. “I told you! He’s only the roommate of the _best_ party-thrower on this side of London.”

              “And you met him where?”

              Giggling, Shannon turned to look at Stephanie, her cheeks glittering in the street lamps with the shimmery blush she’d applied earlier that evening. “Don’t you remember that club last week? He and I made out for half an hour before going for a round on the roof.”

              Stephanie bit her lip and looked straight ahead, her own cheeks flushing warm and red. “Right. Him.”

              She felt Shannon’s eyes on her as they walked. “Ooo, somebody’s jealous!”

              “Please.” Stephanie rolled her eyes. Sure, she had _maybe_ thought about what it’d be like to kiss Shannon. The woman was a total babe – who _wouldn’t_ want to kiss her? Except Stephanie knew she was straight. Shannon bounced from guy to guy at every party and night out they’d shared. No way would Shannon be into her.

              Plus, it was kind of nice to have a close friend again. She’d mostly lost that sort of connection when she moved across the Atlantic.

              “Oh, don’t worry, Steph! You’ll get some tonight, I’m sure of it.”

              They showed up at Jonathan’s doorstep – the penthouse of a tall, modern-looking apartment building – with vodka and tequila in hand. Jonathan opened the door with a woman on his arm, and Stephanie watched as her friend deflated at the sight.

              “Shannon! Welcome, come on in!”

              The penthouse was amazing – cool lights, edgy furniture, and most importantly, floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a beautiful view of the city. The party was already hopping, with a huge crowd of people already halfway to drunk. Stephanie felt the bass reverberate in her bones, and wondered who’d be deejaying tonight.

              A few hours later, she found Shannon at the bar, ordering another tequila.

              “You will never believe what just happened!”

              Shannon smiled, clearly seeing Stephanie’s excitement. “What happened?”

              “DJ Vortex just let me spin!”

              Shannon’s eyes widened. “That’s great! How was it?”

              “It was amazing! I can’t believe it. Thank you for bringing us here tonight, I’m having a great time.”

              Quietly – a strange quiet that mismatched the rest of the room – Shannon said, “Good, I’m glad,” before reaching for her drink.

              Something was off. Stephanie tilted her head and tried to read the expression on Shannon’s face.

              “You okay?”

              Shannon’s eyes trailed down Stephanie’s body, and was Stephanie imagining it, or were Shannon’s pupils dilating?

              “C’mere.”

              And before Stephanie could comprehend what was happening, Shannon was dragging her upstairs, to a deserted hallway and into an empty bedroom, where she pressed Stephanie up against the closed door and kissed her.

              _Whoa, baby!_ While Stephanie wasn’t about to argue about this turn of events, she still couldn’t believe what was happening. How had she missed this?

              “Wait, wait,” Stephanie gasped as she tilted her head upwards so Shannon could kiss her neck. “I thought you were straight.”

              Shannon sucked on Stephanie’s pulse point, sending a shiver down to her core. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been fantasizing about this for months. Tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

              And Stephanie couldn’t disagree. Especially now that Shannon’s hands were on her breasts and _damn_ , did it feel good.

              Steamy kisses led to clothes falling to the floor, and then suddenly they were naked in a stranger’s bed. It was the best sex Stephanie had ever had.

*

              A few days later, they did it again. And a week after that, it happened a third time. Soon, they developed a friends-with-benefits situation, and Stephanie forgot all about soulmates and their marks.

              Except for the times when she visited home. She flew back once or twice a year for holidays or special events. She stopped by a month or so after Max was born and again a couple of days before Joey moved to Las Vegas. She stayed for a week when Dad married Terri.

              The feelings didn’t hit _that_ hard. She wasn’t thinking of marriage or long-lasting relationships or settling down. Soulmates fell at the bottom of her priority list.

              It was about six or seven in the evening when Stephanie’s phone rang. She was about to spin at a party in Taiwan when she recognized the caller ID. Her heart dropped when she did the math and realized that, in California, it was about two in the morning.

              “Deej? Is everything okay?”

              Several sniffles, a couple of sobs, and a broken, “No” served as her answer.

              DJ, between cries, relayed the terrible news. Her soulmate had died in a fire, saving a family from a burning building. She was devastated.

              “I’ll be on the first flight out.”

*

              Two days later, Stephanie found herself hanging in the doorway of Uncle Jesse’s old room, watching a pregnant DJ tuck Jackson into bed after the viewing.

              This hurt was all too familiar to Stephanie. As DJ spoke softly to Jackson, stroking his hair and kissing him on the forehead, Stephanie was reminded of a similar image thirty years prior – Dad perched on the edge of her own child-sized mattress, a comforting hand on her arm that did little to soothe her five-year-old grief.

              Stephanie didn’t do kids. Hadn’t done kids since Michelle was that kid. Probably would never do kids, if what the doctor told her last week was true.

              She blinked, forcing herself to pay attention to the two figures on the bed. That was a conversation for later. DJ had enough on her plate as it was – newly widowed, with two boys and a third on the way. Maybe in a month.

              Or never. Never would be fine, too.

              DJ gave her son one last hug, a lingering kiss on the forehead, and a whispered, “I love you,” which Jackson returned. Stephanie offered a wave from where she stood, having no clue what an estranged aunt who showed up once or twice a year with presents and cash could possibly do to comfort a kid at a time like this.

              Stephanie stepped aside to let DJ through and slid the door shut behind them. When she turned back to DJ, her sister took one helpless, exhausted look at her and collapsed into her shoulder.

              She could tell DJ was trying to stay quiet – after all, they were still in the middle of the hallway – but her body shook with gasps and Stephanie felt a wet spot on her shoulder forming.

              “I know, I know,” she murmured. “Let’s go into the bedroom, okay?”

              DJ nodded into her shoulder, and Stephanie took that as permission to lead her into their old shared bedroom, where Danny had moved DJ’s double bed for their visits home. Kimmy sat at the foot of the bed with a box of tissues in her hands, as if she’d already known when DJ would crumble. Stephanie guided her to the bed and sat her between them, where they rubbed her back and stroked her hair and squeezed her hands as DJ, finally out of the boys’ sight, let herself fall apart.

              “I just… I can’t believe he’s gone.”

              “Neither can we,” Kimmy murmured, eyes glistening with unshed tears at the sight of her best friend hurting so deeply.

              “He – he was such a good father.” She gasped for air and let out another sob. “And husband.”

              Stephanie moved her hand dumbly across DJ’s back, wishing she could do more to help, wishing she could bring Tommy back from the dead and make this cloud of grief hanging over the house go away.

              DJ flipped her wrist up and ran a thumb over the faded, white lines that made up her Soulmate Mark, as if by doing so, she could magically restore it.

              “It isn’t fair. Some people get _years_ with their soulmate. A lifetime.”

              Kimmy ran her fingers through DJ’s hair. “At least you got to meet him. Start a family.” A distant look passed over her face as she focused on a random spot in the carpet. “Some people get barely any time at all.”

              As Kimmy brought her eyes back to DJ’s lap where their hands lay wrapped together, Stephanie wondered what she knew about soulmates and limited time. Had Kimmy come across her soulmate only to lose them just as suddenly?

              “I know. And I’m grateful for the time we had with him.” DJ sniffed. “It’s just so sudden, you know?”

              Stephanie and Kimmy nodded solemnly.

              After a while, DJ got up to go to the bathroom, leaving Stephanie and Kimmy in the quiet, dim-lit room.

              “Isn’t that scary?” Kimmy whispered, worry lines in her forehead prominent as she fiddled with the striped, neon elastic that covered her Soulmate Mark.

              “What?” Stephanie studied her, trying to figure out what she meant by _scary_. Dying in a fire was scary, but she didn’t think that’s what Kimmy meant. “Your soulmate dying?”

              Kimmy nodded, wringing her lips. “Yeah. At least DJ got to meet hers. I just keep thinking – what if I never meet mine? What if they die before we even meet? Or vice versa?”

              Stephanie tilted her head. “You haven’t met your soulmate yet?”

              She shook her head.

              “So what were you talking about when you said some people barely get any time at all? It sounded like you were talking about…” she trailed off, noticing the way Kimmy had switched to hugging her arms to her stomach. Stephanie switched directions. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business…”

              “No, it’s okay.” Without moving her arms from their folded place, she lifted a shoulder. “It wasn’t me.”

              Stephanie wanted to ask more, to find out about this soulmate who she assumed passed away suddenly, to prod about Kimmy’s soulmate, to ask whether she was still _keeping her options open_. But then the toilet flushed and a sink turned on and they didn’t have much time.

              Instead, she put a hand on Kimmy’s shoulder, something she didn’t think she’d done with her _ever_ and offered an understanding tilt of the head.

              “Yeah, I worry about that, too.”

              The three of them shared the bed that night, even though there were at least two other perfectly good mattresses in the house. Stephanie and Kimmy sandwiched DJ in, unable to do anything except be there with her. Just after one, Max joined them, followed twenty minutes later by Jackson.

              And for a moment, Stephanie remembered what it was like to be part of a big family.


	3. cheek kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there was one photo under the chaotic bisexual alignment, Stephanie mused that it’d be Kimmy's.

              A year and a half after that, Stephanie came home for a going away party but ended up staying and moving in with her sister. To her horror, Kimmy moved in, too, taking a particular affinity to calling Stephanie her _sister-wife_ , accompanied by random cheek kisses and hugs.

              _Blech_.

              Actually, Stephanie wanted to hate it – and did the first few times – but after a while, she just got used to it. It became borderline _endearing_. She almost came to expect the little good morning kisses Kimmy gave her, though Stephanie never gave them herself.

              And then there was DJ, who for some godforsaken reason decided to obsess herself with finding Stephanie’s soulmate. And that was almost even _more_ annoying than the constant affection from Kimmy.

              “Hey, Steph,” DJ started one morning. She rounded the counter and approached Stephanie at the kitchen table. “A patient came in yesterday with his mark uncovered and _guess what it was_?”

              Stephanie hummed, trying to convey her disinterest as she sat back in her chair. “I didn’t know dogs got soulmate marks, too.”

              “Ha. Ha,” DJ laughed flatly. “The _owner_ , not his _dog_.” She moved to Stephanie’s side. “He had a _robin_ tattoo – can you believe it?”

              Stephanie scoffed. “Why would I care about that?”

              “Uh, _hello_? He could be your soulmate!”

              Stephanie’s eyes widened as she remembered that, oh yeah, she _did_ tell DJ it was a robin, didn’t she?

              “Can I see your Soulmate Mark? I wanna see if it matches his.”

              Stephanie covered her already-covered wrist with her hand in preemptive protection. “Uh, I’m good, thanks.”

              “C’mon!” DJ pressed. “Please? I know what his looks like, I could totally tell you if it matches.”

              Stephanie turned the tables onto DJ. “How do you even know he’s even looking? Maybe he’s already _found_ his soulmate.”

              DJ sat down at the table, eyes flashing with excitement. “Because I asked him. I complimented his mark and asked if he’s met his soulmate and he – said – ‘ _No_.’”

              Stephanie crossed her arms. “Wow, Deej, sounds like a real open-and-shut case there.”

              DJ rolled her eyes. “Okay, if you won’t show _me_ , will you at least let me set you up on a date?”

              “Will you at _least_ stop meddling in my love life?” Stephanie stood from the table and moved to one of the barstools.

              DJ circled to the other side of the counter, reaching for Stephanie’s hand but missing as the blonde slipped it out of her reach. “Oh, come _on_ , Steph, it could be true love!”

              “What’s true love?” came Kimmy’s voice from the stairs and _no_ , this could _not_ be happening.

              Kimmy came into view and, when she spotted Stephanie at the bar, crossed to her side and gave her a peck on the cheek. “What are we talking about?”

              DJ gave a pointed glance between Kimmy and Stephanie. “I’m trying to set up Stephanie on a date with her _soulmate_ , but she’s being difficult.”

              “You met your soulmate?” Kimmy asked her. “Holy excitement, Batman!”

              “DJ _thinks_ she’s met my soulmate,” Stephanie corrected, tearing her eyes away from Kimmy’s banana-shaped earrings to give DJ an irritated glance.

              “C’mon, Steph, he has a robin tattoo! You have to give it a chance.”

              Stephanie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine, give me his number.”

              DJ jumped in excitement. Stephanie figured that she could text the poor guy and apologize for the mix-up. Anything to get DJ off her back.

              “Your mark is a robin?” Kimmy questioned. “That’s so cool!”

              Stephanie wondered if that was a hint that Kimmy wanted to see it, but she also had zero confidence that Kimmy could keep her real mark a secret from DJ. If she showed Kimmy the jasmine, it’d only be a matter of time before DJ started bugging her about soulmates for _real_.

              “Yeah.”

              Kimmy crossed to the fridge. “You know, since Fernando and I are separated, maybe I should start looking for my soulmate again.” She pulled out a carton of orange juice and poured herself a glass.

              Happy for the change of subject, Stephanie prodded further. “Yeah? Pray tell, what poor, misguided soul do you hope has the same mark as you?”

              Ignoring Stephanie’s dig, Kimmy grinned. “I hope it’s the cable guy – free HBO for life!”

              DJ squinted at Kimmy, and Stephanie tilted her head in response to the statement. Before either could comment, though, Max spoke up from behind them, seeming to have appeared out of nowhere.

              “You mean the fifty-year-old guy who shows up to turn the router off and on again when you can’t figure it out?”

              Kimmy furrowed her brow at him. “Wait, _you_ know how to fix the internet?”

              Crossing to the table and plopping down on a chair, Max rolled his eyes dramatically. “Of course. Why don’t you?”

              Stephanie held up a hand before _that_ conversation turned into an argument. “Okay, we’re getting off-topic here. Anyone else?”

              Kimmy thought for a moment before slapping a palm onto the counter excitedly.

              “I’m planning a kids’ birthday party this weekend. Maybe I’ll meet them there!”

              Stephanie stared at her for a moment. “You’re hoping your soulmate is the parent of a six-year-old.”

              “The party is for _ten_ -year-olds, thank you.” Kimmy shrugged. “And you never know. I could probably meet half of San Francisco through Gibbler Style.”

              Stephanie wasn’t sure how many parties Kimmy would have to throw to meet that requirement, but she had to admit that searching for a soulmate at those parties wouldn’t be such a terrible idea, professional workplace setting aside.

              “And when your soulmate turns out to be an eighty-seven-year-old woman at a nursing home party?”

              Kimmy glared at her before tilting her head and seeming to give the idea some genuine thought.

              “Maybe I’ll be like a younger version of herself! We could talk about her life, all the things she’s seen, and she could give me some real advice.”

              Huh.

              Stephanie watched as Kimmy poured herself a bowl of cereal and plopped down at the table next to Max. That was actually… kind of beautiful.

              Then, Kimmy’s eyes widened.

              “What if she dies… and her spirit goes _into_ me?” Her gaze lifted to her housemates in sudden fear. “I can’t wear granny panties for the rest of my life!” She leaned back in her chair and fanned herself. “I think I’m already having a hot flash.”

              “Kimmy,” DJ said, rounding the counter again to approach her. “You realize this is all still hypothetical, right?”

              “You don’t _know_ that!”

              Trying to stifle a laugh, Stephanie turned to sit sideways in her chair. “I’ll make you a deal, Kimmy. In the event that you get possessed by an eighty-seven-year-old, I’ll pay for the exorcist myself.”

*

              “Do you like these carrots are not? Just give me a sign, a hint.”

              Tommy, with his chin and bib covered in orange baby food goop, launched a handful of the stuff at Stephanie’s face and giggled.

              Before Stephanie could scold him, try again, or even wipe the food from her face, Jackson poked his head into the kitchen and told her, “You have a visitor.” He lowered his voice and put his hand next to his mouth to stage whisper his next sentence. “She’s English and she’s hot.”

              And before Stephanie could ask any other questions, there was Shannon, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, in her childhood home, all short leather skirt and fiery red crop top that showed a smooth tan stomach. Stephanie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was like running into a teacher outside of school or a DJ at the grocery store – unnatural and weird – but she also couldn’t help the rush of excitement that suddenly bubbled in her stomach.

              Damn, she was pretty. Shannon hadn’t lost any of her beauty in the few months that Stephanie had been away – her smile still wide and beautiful, blonde hair still long and bouncy, and legs still sexy and slender.

              And her thirteen-year-old nephew was staring at her with a horny teenage boy smile and _no_ , that was _not_ going to be happening.

              Shannon smiled at him and poked his shoulder. “You are an observant young man.”

              Approaching Stephanie where she sat with Tommy, Shannon threw open her arms for a hug.

              “Oh my god, Shannon!” Stephanie leaped out of her chair and hugged her tightly, still disbelieving. “What are you doing here?”

              “I came to rescue you. I saw your Facebook page.” Shannon turned her attention to the kitchen, examining the dog food bowls on the floor, Max’s drawings on the fridge, and the family photos near the stairs. “I mean, diaper changes, baby baths…” She eyed Tommy with a strange level of contempt. “And you in some horrible pizza restaurant infested with guitar-playing rodents?”

              Stephanie shrugged. Shannon may be hot and fun, but she didn’t have the first clue about family life, and it showed. “That’s Chuck-E-Cheese.”

              “Darling, the name is irrelevant. The point is, this is obviously a cry for help.” Shannon glanced Tommy again, covered in orange slop and holding his baby spoon in both hands, before turning her attention to the soft green apron Stephanie was wearing.

              “Look, I’m just here for my sister. I mean, I help take care of the kids, I do a little light housekeeping, you know, some part-time cooking, drive carpools….”

              Shannon lifted a finger and swiped at the carrot gunk on Stephanie’s eye, which she’d completely forgotten about, stopping Stephanie in her tracks. For a moment, time stood still, and it felt like they were back in England, about to go for another round after a killer party.

              “What is this?” Shannon asked, bringing her finger to her lips, smelling the goop on it, and tasting it. She recoiled.

              “It’s carrot baby food… ” Stephanie realized Shannon’s point as she said it. “What has happened to my life?”

              “Come with me to Coachella,” Shannon continued, reaching for a paper towel on the counter and wiping her hand clean. “I’ve got two seats on some dude’s private jet… oh! He’s the guy that invented the emoji that looks like this…!” She brought her fists to her head, sticking her index fingers out like horns, and mimicked an angry face.

              “Oh, no way! I wish I could, but it’s Mommy-and-Me face-painting day. You wanna come?”

              Shannon gave her a deadpan look, and Stephanie realized what she was asking. Things really had changed since she came home, didn’t they?

              Before Stephanie could offer another excuse to stay home, Shannon stepped up to her, cupped her chin with a hand, and gave her a long, gentle kiss.

              _God_. Her lips were so soft. As much as Stephanie loved being home, she really did miss this. Yes, she missed the partying, too, but _this_ … this trumped everything.

              “Whoa, Aunt Stephanie’s kissing a girl!” Jackson exclaimed.

              Stephanie jumped away from Shannon, glaring at her nephew who was hiding behind the kitchen door, poking his head in through the crack and watching with a delighted face.

              “Go – go do your homework or something,” Stephanie told him, crossing to the door to physically shoo him away. Once he disappeared, she turned back to Shannon. “Okay, I’m in.”

              Within an hour, Stephanie had packed her things, left her super-magic scarf with Max, and climbed into a limo with Shannon, on their way to a private jet and Coachella.

              Old habits die hard. The pair picked up as if they’d never left off, not even waiting until the plane was in the air to incite a steamy make-out session in the cushy first-class seats, Shannon straddling Stephanie’s lap, and _damn_ , did Stephanie need this. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a wide, wood-beaded bracelet covering Shannon’s wrist, and Stephanie’s mind started to drift.

              They’d never shown each other their Soulmate Marks. Even though they’d been friends for years, had had their special arrangement for months, neither really spoke much about their marks. Stephanie never really cared, and, as she noticed after a few months of friendship, Shannon didn’t really _do_ feelings. Which, in retrospect, may be why Shannon loved to party so much.

              But just a few days ago, Shannon had been in London – or at least, not in San Francisco. And suddenly she was back in Stephanie’s life, showing up at her house and whisking her away to Coachella? After Stephanie had gotten into the swing of life at home, she never imagined she’d get to see Shannon again in person.

              Maybe it was fate.

              Before they landed, Shannon helped Stephanie with her makeup, applying purple eyeshadow and intricate eyeliner wings and big, fake lashes – not unlike all the other times they’d gotten ready together, doing each other’s makeup and hair while pre-gaming with shots of tequila.

              They arrived at the festival and immediately delved into the fun. Shannon didn’t just acquire seats on a private jet, but she _also_ scored VIP tickets to the music festival. While in the bathroom, Stephanie helped Iggy Azalea find her contact lens, and as a thank you, the star gifted Stephanie one of her hair extensions!

              Just as she was telling Shannon the awesome news, a few butlers walked past with trays of champagne and crab legs. Stephanie reached out and swiped a glass and a leg from them without moving from her spot.

              “Look! My party timing is back!”

              “Okay, so great news. DJ Unbreakable went crowd-surfing and got dropped. He fractured his arm!”

              “DJ Unbreakable… broke?”

              “Yes, and now they need you on the main stage, right now.”

              “Are you kidding?”

              “I’m not kidding.”

              Both girls squealed and headed off to the main stage, where the festival crew helped set Stephanie up for her biggest DJ session _ever_. And then suddenly she was on a platform, high above a sea of people that seemed to stretch back farther than she could even see. Below her, she spotted Shannon dancing in the crowd, eyes closed and arms swinging through the air in tune with the music Stephanie threw down. Every once in a while, Shannon cheered for her, reminding Stephanie just how _huge_ of a deal this thing was. Stephanie was spinning – at _Coachella._

              Afterwards, Shannon told her about a flight to Lake Como on emoji guy’s private jet, tugging her in the direction of the rest of the party-goers. Stephanie cheered with them, trying not to think too hard about Shannon’s hand in her own and instead letting herself be swept away by the crowd.

              In the limo, as the rest of the group danced along drunkenly to some rap song that Stephanie didn’t know, she pulled out her phone and smiled at her wallpaper – a selfie from a time when Jackson and Max had stolen her phone, the boys making goofy faces into the camera.

              She started to text DJ, just to check in.

              “What are you doing?”

              Shannon put her hand on Stephanie’s arm, the touch warm and familiar. “I just wanna see how Max’s recital went.”

              “No, no, no,” Shannon said, slipping Stephanie’s phone out of reach and storing it in her bra. “I pulled you out of that hostage situation. You’re back with your own people now.”

              And for the first time, possibly ever, Stephanie found herself torn between being pissed at Shannon – what gave her the right to steal her phone? – and wanting to scoot closer, to see if this thing could turn into something more. She’d never cared about soulmates before, but suddenly, now that the idea was in her head, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if there was a reason she and Shannon had worked so well for all that time.

              As they settled into their seats on the plane, Stephanie just couldn’t hold in her curiosity any longer. They were about to leave the _country_ , but all she could think about was soulmates and the kiddos. She loved her nephews, and, to be honest, after only one night away, she found herself missing them already. The only reason to stay on the plane that she could find was because she suspected… maybe, possibly…

              “Hey, Shannon?”

              “Yeah?” Without looking at Stephanie, she popped a champagne bottle, ready to relax on their transcontinental flight.

              “I have a question.”

              Shannon turned to look at Stephanie and, upon seeing her thoughtful expression, stuck out her lip to pout. “Why so serious?” She leaned forward and captured Stephanie’s lips in her own, and, damn, did Stephanie _really_ need to know? Her lips were addictive, and Stephanie knew that, if this continued, they’d probably end up having sex in the airplane bathroom. And to be fair, Stephanie was _very much_ craving it.

              Gently, she pushed Shannon away by the shoulders. “C’mon. I want to talk to you.”

              “Yeah?” Shannon asked, tucking a strand of Stephanie’s hair behind her ear. “What about?”

              _Stay strong_ , Stephanie reminded herself. “Your Soulmate Mark.”

              Shannon stared at her for a moment, and Stephanie could tell she was confused about the subject suddenly being brought up.

              “I know we never talked about it, and I know you keep it covered, but… I have to know. What… what is it?”

              In lieu of an answer, Shannon leaned back in, kissing Stephanie first on the lips, then very gently and deliberately down her jawline. “You don’t wanna see it,” she whispered into Stephanie’s neck.

              And god, did Stephanie want to let Shannon continue, but she’d already started in on the question, and she wasn’t going to stop until she had an answer. Too much was at stake to just let it slide.

              “No, Shannon,” Stephanie said, pushing away Shannon a touch harder than she had before. “I’m serious. Are we…?”

              Shannon saw that Stephanie wasn’t going to give up and deflated.

              “Is that why you came with me? Because you thought we were…?”

              “No! Not at all! God, Shannon, it’s so great to see you again, and I’m having a great time, I just… I need to know.”

              She could tell Shannon was hurt, and she didn’t _want_ to hurt Shannon’s feelings. And though she _was_ glad to see her friend and make out with her for a while… Stephanie did need an answer.

              Shannon reached out and touched Stephanie’s cheek, gently. Not trying to seduce her this time, but out of affection. She smiled grimly. “I’m sorry to disappoint…” she began, sliding off her bracelet and showing Stephanie her wrist, “… but I don’t have a soulmate.”

              Stephanie’s jaw dropped. Shannon’s wrist was blank. Completely blank. No tattoo, no Soulmate Mark, no faded lines or changing colors, just… empty.

              “You… you don’t have…”

              “No. I accepted it a long time ago. I’m sorry you thought we were…”

              “No,” Stephanie interrupted, glancing between Shannon’s beautiful hazel eyes and her empty left wrist. “No, don’t be sorry.”

              Stephanie reached behind Shannon’s head and pulled her in for a final kiss – a mind-blowing, amazing, knee-trembling kiss – before standing from her seat.

              “I’m sorry.”

              “Wait, what are you doing?”

              “I need to get off.”

*

              It was about three in the morning when Stephanie crept into the house. All the lights were out, but as she carefully shut the front door behind her, the end table lamp came on.

              DJ was sitting on the couch, holding a drowsy but not quite asleep Tommy in her lap.

              “Hey, Deej.”

              “Hey!” DJ whispered, setting her iPad on the coffee table. “What are you doing back so soon? Your text said you were going to Italy.”

              Stephanie shrugged as she approached her sister and plopped into the nearby armchair. “I was. I don’t know. I got on the plane and everybody was already drunk and stupid.” Mostly true. She was already missing the boys and thinking about bedtime when she sat down in that airplane seat. “Maybe I’ve just outgrown that whole party scene, you know?” She chuckled. “You should’ve seen the emoji guy’s face when I told him to turn his plane around.”

              DJ sat up and leaned forward, careful not to disturb Tommy. “Hold on, you _passed up_ Italy? I haven’t used my passport in ten years. And that was just to renew my passport.”

              “I don’t know. I just got to thinking about everything I’d be missing here. I already missed Max’s first recital, and Jackson’s gonna start dating soon…” She reached over the space between them and rubbed Tommy’s foot with her thumb, gently. “And I definitely don’t wanna miss Tommy’s first words, which we know are gonna be ‘I love you, Aunt Stephanie.’”

              Leaning back again and switching Tommy to her shoulder, DJ smiled. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.”

              “I can’t believe I’m saying it,” Stephanie replied. She studied Tommy, still not quite asleep but getting there, if his drooping eyelids were any indication. “But these kids, they’ve really snuck into my heart.”

              DJ grinned a triumphant grin, and Stephanie wanted to eat her words. “Oooh, look who’s getting sucked into the vortex of motherhood!”

              And then the mood turned serious and DJ was pressing for answers, looking at her with big, concerned eyes, and maybe Stephanie just wanted DJ off her back, or maybe she really _did_ need to talk about this with someone, but whatever the case, she admitted the thing, that _other_ thing, she’d been keeping secret.

              DJ hugged her. And then there were tears and more hugs and a vague rationale for keeping it secret – that DJ had just lost Tommy, that Stephanie wasn’t really thinking about soulmates or starting a family until she moved back into the house – and then DJ told her that her kids were Stephanie’s kids, and then there was more hugging.

              As they pulled away, DJ latched onto something that Stephanie had mentioned. “Did you say you were thinking about soulmates?”

              “Yeah.” Stephanie held her arms out in an offer to take Tommy, and DJ gave her a grateful nod. She guessed DJ had been holding him for a while and that she could use a break. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

              “I’m sure it’s not stupid, Steph.”

              She sighed. “Maybe I _do_ want to meet my soulmate. I never really did before. But when I came here and you started to bug me about mine, and Kimmy said she was gonna start looking for hers… I really started to think about mine. I started to think it was… well…” Stephanie paused, not wanting to get into _that_ conversation, the bisexuality conversation, right after the infertility conversation.

              “The woman who came here and invited you to Coachella?”

              Stephanie blinked, disbelieving. _How_ did she know about –

              “Jackson told me he saw you two kissing.”

              Oh. Great.

              Stephanie wasn’t even sure how to respond. DJ had a sort of mischievous look on her face, and Stephanie didn’t know whether she wanted to smack it off of her or just leave the room.

              “Yeah. Yeah, I thought it was her. And then it wasn’t.” DJ reached for her hand and squeezed, and Stephanie was secretly relieved that her sister hadn’t decided to harp on the _woman_ aspect of her potential soulmate. And maybe Stephanie had had too much champagne today, but sharing with DJ was kind of nice, so she kept talking. “And now… I don’t know. Cause maybe part of me is also scared that my soulmate’s gonna be upset that I can’t have kids. And… you know. What do I do, then?”

              DJ watched with teary eyes as Stephanie shifted Tommy into a new position.

              “Soulmates love you for who you are, not whether you kiss the best or whether you can give them children.” She scratched Tommy’s belly, and Stephanie noticed that his eyes had been closed for a couple of minutes now. She knew DJ had to be thinking of Tommy Sr., how he’d loved DJ and their kids until the very end of his life.

              Stephanie offered a small smile. “Thanks, Deej.”

              “So,” DJ said, tentatively. “Does this mean you’re… gay? ‘Cause if you are, that’s totally fine. Totally. Fine. I love you no matter who you love, no matter – ”

              She put out a hand to stop her, smiling. “I’m bi. But thanks, Deej.”

              Her sister nodded at the information. “Okay, bi. That’s cool, too. You know, I have a few friends who are bi, including some of my favorite pet-owners at the clinic. I could set you up with – ”

              “Uh… I’m good.”

              Stephanie chuckled before sighing in relief. She’d always been hesitant to tell DJ, mostly because the subject had never been brought up before and Stephanie was too nervous to bring it up herself. There _were_ homophobic people who insisted that same-gender soulmates were meant to be best friends, but luckily, those were few and far between nowadays, at least in San Francisco. She was grateful to learn that her sister wasn’t one of them (though she did feel a little stupid for not seeing it before).

              “Oh, c’mon. If you’re gonna start looking for your soulmate, can’t I help you look?”

              Not this again. Good grief. “No, you still cannot help me look.”

              “Please, Stephanie? Oh, this is so exciting!” And part of Stephanie wanted to let her, but another part of her also knew that DJ would be pissed at Stephanie for lying about her mark and that, again, was _not_ a conversation to be had right now.

              “No. Please back off before I change my mind and decide to marry the next person who walks in the door.” DJ nodded in reluctant agreement.

              Just then, the kitchen door opened and Kimmy walked in, donned in rainbow pajamas and holding a chicken leg.

              “I thought I heard voices in here.” She bit into the chicken leg, chewed, and swallowed as the other two watched. “What? I needed a snack. Nothing cures the midnight munchies like a chicken leg.”

              Stephanie shook her head, passing Tommy back off to his mother and standing. “I’m going to bed.” She patted Kimmy on the shoulder as she passed, more entertained by Kimmy’s interruption than annoyed.

              “Night, everyone.”

*

              A few weeks later, Stephanie sat at the counter, nursing her second cup of coffee and listening to Ramona complain about their need for cooler dance moves.

              “You know, I could show you guys some if you want.”

              “Really? You would?”

              “Sure! I’ve been in clubs all across the world. If anyone knows dance, it’s me.”

              “Thanks!” Ramona beamed, hopping out of her chair at the table to give Stephanie a hug.

              “We’re having a rehearsal this Saturday. You could come watch and give us pointers?”

              “Absolutely, I’m there.”

              “Oooh, can I come?” DJ asked as she packed the boys’ lunches. “Kimmy and I have the routine from _Dirty Dancing_ down-pat!” She proceeded to demonstrate a couple of moves, mostly dramatic poses as she used Max’s lunch box as a prop.

              “Uh… no offense, but I think the girls are looking for some moves from _this_ century.”

              DJ shot a glare at Stephanie before giving Ramona a grin. “You don’t know what you’re missing!”

              “Oh… I think I do,” Ramona chuckled lightly. She swiped her phone off the table and turned back to Stephanie. “This is so great! I’m gonna text the girls and tell them the awesome news!”

              As Ramona disappeared into the living room, Kimmy skipped down the stairs with a grin plastered from ear to ear.

              “Morning, Tanneritos!”

              She spotted Stephanie at the counter and hopped over, squeezing her into a tight, one-armed hug and planting a _huge_ kiss on Stephanie’s cheek.

              “ _Someone’s_ perky this morning,” Stephanie observed as the other woman made her way to the coffee machine.

              Kimmy poured herself a cup and spun around, beaming, as she stirred cream into her coffee with a spoon. “I think I’ve met my soulmate.”

              Stephanie barked a laugh. “Ha! Good one.”

              Upon Kimmy’s glare, Stephanie straightened in her chair and changed direction. “Wait, for real? That’s awesome!”

              DJ grinned at her best friend, then her sister. “Yeah, she found this great guy at the deli like, two days ago. I wish I could stay for the story, but I’m already late and should get going. Stephanie, can you make sure the boys get their lunches?”

              Stephanie gestured to the counter. “You mean, make sure the boys grab these on their way out the door? Yeah, I think I can manage,” she finished sarcastically.

              DJ shot her an unamused look before grabbing her bags, kissing a high-chair-bound Tommy, and heading out the back door.

              “Actually,” Kimmy continued, stepping up to the counter, on the opposite side from where Stephanie was sitting. “He’s not who I was talking about. I ran into him again yesterday and we shared our marks and he’s not a match. The newest one works at the coffee shop down the street.”

              “Newest one?” Stephanie repeated.

              “Okay, so _maybe_ I’ve had a few run-ins since we talked that didn’t work out, but I _swear_ , the coffee shop woman is _it_.”

              Stephanie leaned back in her chair, trying not to focus on the fact that Kimmy suspected her soulmate was a _woman_. “How do you know?”

              Kimmy beamed. “She stopped wearing her wristband a few days ago. I haven’t gotten a good look yet, but it’s _close_ , I can tell.”

              Stephanie took in Kimmy’s outfit: her curls seemed to be perfectly maintained, tucked behind a sunflower headband, and her makeup was nearly perfect, bringing out her sky blue eyes and pink cheeks, though that flush could just be part of her excitement. She wore a neon green, low cut top and bright yellow pants. Stephanie mused that Kimmy was trying to impress this soulmate, whoever it was.

              “Is she cute?” Stephanie pressed, trying not to stare at Kimmy’s boobs. If the goal of that shirt was to draw attention to them, it was certainly working.

              _No, focus._ The last time they talked about this, Kimmy said she was keeping her options open. Stephanie wondered if that was still the case, if Kimmy’s excitement meant she was attracted to this woman.

              Kimmy nodded. “Oh, yeah. She’s got blonde hair and muscly arms and a tattoo sleeve with medusa’s head on it!”

              Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like it.”

              “Only problem is,” Kimmy continued, “I don’t know if she likes women.”

              Stephanie tried to tamp down her excitement at this confirmation and instead focused on the flaw in Kimmy’s logic. “You’re not even sure your marks match, but her _sexuality_ is the problem here?”

              Kimmy shrugged. “C’mon, I’m not gonna wait thirty years for my soulmate to show up only to find out she’s _straight_.”

              “So turn her,” Stephanie said with a shrug. Not that she actually believed people could be ‘turned’ one way or another – she just wanted to encourage Kimmy to go after this mystery coffee shop worker. It would only end in one of two ways: Kimmy finding her soulmate, or complete and utter hilarity. Stephanie was hoping for the latter. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, uh, use your ‘Gibbler Charm’ or whatever you wanna call it.”

              “This isn’t my junior year of college, Steph. I can’t just _turn_ people anymore.”

              “Anymore?” Stephanie repeated. “Oh, I definitely need to hear this story.”

              “Careful, I might turn you, too,” Kimmy teased with a wink.

              Stephanie was thrown. What was _that?_

              She shook her head, writing it off as Kimmy being excited and, well, _being Kimmy_. If there was one photo under the _chaotic bisexual_ alignment, Stephanie mused that it’d be hers.

              Since Kimmy was already being honest about her attraction, Stephanie decided to take their conversation a step further.

              “You can’t turn someone who already plays for both teams.”

              Kimmy furrowed her brow. “You play sports?”

              Stephanie sighed. “No, Kimmy, not _sports_ teams.”

              It took her a minute. Stephanie was surprised – for a supposed bisexual woman, Kimmy was taking a bit longer to get the joke than Stephanie thought she would.

              Finally, Kimmy’s eyes widened. “Wait – you’re bisexual, too?”

              Trying and failing to stifle a laugh, Stephanie nodded. “Yeah.”

              Kimmy’s mouth hung open for a moment in shock. She glanced down Stephanie’s form, as if taking her in for the first time. She closed her mouth. Blinked a few times. “Does DJ know?”

              “I told her a few weeks ago. She was fine with it. You?”

              Shrugging, Kimmy sipped on her coffee before responding. “Sure, she knows. We don’t talk about it a lot, but she was cool about it.”

              “Cool,” Stephanie replied. “So… the story?”

              Hopping up onto the counter so she sat next to the stove, Kimmy delved right in. “So my friend Lukas invites me to this party, right?”

              As Kimmy told the story, Stephanie recognized several of her own college escapades in Kimmy’s tale – except Kimmy gave herself a lot more credit than due.

              “…and even though she made out with a guy right after that, she went forth from that day _much less heterosexual_ than when we began.”

              “Kimmy, you didn’t _turn_ her, you just made her look more attractive to the guys.”

              Kimmy didn’t seem to believe her. “If you say so.”

              “I know so. I’ve made out with tons of ‘straight’ girls and didn’t turn a one of them.”

              Kimmy’s eyes flitted downward to Stephanie’s mouth. “Didn’t Michelle once make fun of you for having dry lips?”

              Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Okay, listen, my lips are just fi-“

              Just then, the boys barreled down the steps, backpacks already hanging from their shoulders and arguing about which wrestlers were superior.

              “All right, boys, break it up!” Stephanie declared. They both had already finished their breakfast earlier, so she directed them to the lunch boxes on the counter and ushered them out the door. A moment later, Ramona walked through, waved goodbye, and joined them outside.

              Stephanie pulled Tommy out of his high chair and sat him in her lap, moving his arms and speaking in a high-pitched voice to pretend he was talking: “I think you should go for it!” She brought both of his arms above his head as if Tommy were cheering, eliciting a giggle from Kimmy.

*

              That Saturday, Stephanie helped the Van Atta middle school dance team come up with some kick-ass dance moves. Then, two weeks later, Ramona and the other girls appointed her as coach, which seemed to piss off Kimmy so much that she regressed into a burst of 90’s dance moves accompanied by a slew of outdated slang. Stephanie teased her further, but as she scrambled some eggs for the boys the next morning, she wondered whether she’d taken it too far.

              Kimmy strutted down the kitchen stairs and, as she crossed to the refrigerator, put a hand on Stephanie’s shoulder and leaned in automatically. Stephanie waited for the inevitable morning kiss, but suddenly Kimmy’s hand had disappeared and all she felt was air.

              “Morning, everyone! Who’s excited for Lucha Kaboom?”

              Stephanie turned to watch Kimmy as she opened the fridge and rummaged inside.

              “Me, me, me, me!” Max practically screamed from his seat at the table. Kimmy emerged from the fridge with her standard carton of orange juice and smiled at his excitement, pointedly ignoring Stephanie as she poured herself a glass.

              “Hey,” Stephanie said, elbowing her gently. “Where’s my morning kiss?”

              Kimmy avoided eye contact as she walked to the other counter and popped a bagel in the toaster.

              “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

              “Really.” Strange as they may be, Kimmy’s kisses had solidified themselves a place amidst their morning routine, and there was no way Stephanie was about to let Kimmy deny it. “My sister’s annoying best friend kisses me on the cheek every morning. I think I’d notice that.”

              Kimmy returned to the fridge and pulled out a tub of cream cheese, keeping her back to Stephanie as she did so. Stephanie pressed further.

              “You’re not still mad about the dance thing, are you?”

              “No,” Kimmy replied, and though she still refused eye contact, at least she’d given Stephanie _something_. “Don’t be silly.”

              Except, just then, in an instance of impeccable timing, Ramona came bounding down the stairs, already in her dance uniform and bursting with excitement. “Stephanie, I’m so excited for today! We couldn’t be doing this without you.”

              “Aw, yes, Stephanie,” Kimmy added, finally making eye contact with Stephanie to tilt her head and offer a far-too-sweet smile. “You’re so _wonderful_.”

              Okay, so Kimmy was definitely still mad.

              Stephanie raised her eyebrows at Kimmy, as if to point out the immaturity in her response, but just then, Max piped up. “Yeah, Aunt Stephanie’s the best! I can’t wait to wear the King Jaguarito costume she got me!” He grinned at her from ear-to-ear, but his words only seemed to incite Kimmy further.

              “Look at me, I’m Aunt Stephanie,” Kimmy continued in a haughty voice, shifting her shoulders dramatically. “Everyone loves _me_.” She approached Stephanie with almost too much force, stepping far too close, until her chest was smashed right up against Stephanie’s arm. Kimmy shook her chest back and forth to puncture her next mock: “I have big boobs.”

              Rolling her eyes and shoving Kimmy off of her, Stephanie tilted her head, tried not to focus on the fact that Kimmy had commented on the size of her _boobs_ , and instead fired back. “Oh, real mature.”

              Kimmy’s bagel popped, so the other woman focused her efforts on spreading cream cheese on it. “Like making fun of the Gibbler Gallop is mature?”

              “C’mon, Kimmy. Like the Gibbler Gallop _is_ mature? Who in their right mind would put that in an actual dance routine anyway?”

              Kimmy glared at her, and for the first time, Stephanie actually noticed the hurt in eyes.

              Yep, Stephanie had let it go too far.

              “No, I didn’t mean that, I – ”

              But Kimmy had already stalked out of the room, carrying her bagel and glass but leaving out the OJ carton and cream cheese tub.

              Stephanie turned back to find Ramona with crossed arms.

              “You fucked up.”

              Max gasped.

              “Hey,” Stephanie admonished, though without any actual bite in her voice. “Don’t say ‘fuck’ in front of the kid.”

              “At least I didn’t make fun of the Gibbler Gallop to Mom’s face.”

              Stephanie sighed. Ramona was right – even though the girls didn’t like the move, they still went along with it when Kimmy taught them, just to spare her feelings. And though Stephanie and Kimmy had their fair share of insults, this one cut a bit deeper than calling each other dumb or making fun of appearances.

              “Touché. C’mon, you’re gonna help me make this right.”

              “I am?”

              Plating the boys’ eggs and setting them on the table, Stephanie tugged Ramona up the stairs and started to plan.

*

              The car ride there was filled with passive-aggressive remarks and palpable tension between Stephanie and Kimmy, who avoided eye contact for the whole drive. At the venue, Stephanie helped the girls get ready for their dance, and she and Ramona convinced them to go through with this new plan.

              Just before the girls went on, Stephanie spotted Kimmy giving Ramona a good-luck hug across the room from her place at the disc jockey table.

              “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our special guests: the Van Atta Middle School Dance Team!”

              Kimmy tugged the mic away from the emcee and added, “Sponsored by Gibbler Style Party Planning! Five dollars off your next quinceñera!”

              She scurried to her seat while the four middle schoolers took the stage, waving and smiling at the crowd. Stephanie felt a surge of excitement and nervousness, hoping this would be enough to convince Kimmy to forgive her. If not… Stephanie didn’t know what she’d do.

              The music started, and the girls broke out into the first moves of their routine. Stephanie had to give them credit – she’d taught them some difficult steps, but all four of them had caught on fairly quickly. Kimmy clapped and cheered from her seat, a proud smile on her face as she watched her daughter perform.

              Then, during the final stretch of the song, Stephanie warped the song and gave the bass and drums more of a kick. The girls spun out of a move and started into their surprise choreography, letting their hands fall in a raining sort of motion before twirling an arm above their head and spinning.

              Kimmy’s jaw dropped. The girls continued the Gibbler Gallop, spanking their hips to the time of the music before doing a few new, complicated steps and going into the Gallop again.

              Kimmy’s head turned to find Stephanie across the room. Stephanie nodded at her, indicating that she’d helped the girls change the choreography. To her relief, Kimmy nodded back.

              The girls fell into their final pose, and Stephanie faded out the music as the audience cheered.

              The rest of the evening panned out fairly… interestingly. As they sat at the counter later that night, Kimmy hugging an elaborate hot chocolate concoction while Stephanie nursed a cup of tea, they reminisced about what had happened.

              “I can’t believe DJ took down those wrestlers!” Stephanie exclaimed.

              “I know! It was almost as good as my favorite fight from Wrestlemania!”

              Stephanie shook her head, forgetting that Kimmy liked wrestling. “Yeah, it was awesome.”

              They stayed quiet for a moment, sipping their drinks, when Stephanie spoke up. “I’m sorry for making fun of you yesterday.”

              Kimmy narrowed her eyes. “Since when are you sorry for making fun of me? You’ve never held back before.”

              Stephanie tilted her head in acknowledgement. “True. But this time it went a little too far. I didn’t mean to replace you as coach or make you feel like you weren’t needed.”

              Kimmy looked into her mug. “Ramona said the dance was your idea.”

              Nodding, Stephanie nudged her gently. “Technically, it was _your_ idea.”

              At this, Kimmy smiled, a soft, loving smile that Stephanie had only ever seen her give Ramona. “Yeah, well, I gotta admit, your moves are pretty cool. Not cooler than mine,” she rushed to correct, “but pretty cool. Bring it in, sister-wife!”

              Kimmy squeezed Stephanie to her side, planting a kiss on her cheek. And Stephanie chuckled, letting her do it because she was just glad to finally be back on Kimmy’s good side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I started writing these scenes, I had been re-watching these episodes and was thinking a lot about (a) how Stephanie's scenes with Shannon would've gone differently if they'd been fwb or lovers in the past, and (b) how angsty S&K's fight in 1x06 actually is without the laugh track
> 
> So I hope that you didn't mind the recycled dialogue, but I had fun re-imagining these scenes and I thought it'd be interesting


	4. romances, parties, and a surprising discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, loves! If you read the last chapter ("cheek kisses") on or before July 1, 2019, please go back and reread it again (or, at least, please take a peek at the nighttime scene between DJ and Stephanie). I finally have some direction for this fic (as well as some perfectionist tendencies) and decided to go back and change a couple of things. Current word count is over 35k, so don't think that we're nearing the end quite yet!
> 
> Thank you for all of your lovely comments. Stephimmy is such a niche pairing that it's easy to forget that people are actually reading this - know that your comments and kudos are absolutely appreciated.
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy!

              Stephanie was folding Tommy’s socks at the kitchen table when DJ waltzed in through the back door practically _swooning_. At the same time, Kimmy wandered in from the living room wearing an identical dream-like expression.

              For a moment, Stephanie worried that they’d found her pot brownies, but then DJ started to gush about a new, secret man. Kimmy also gushed about a new, secret man before pointing an accusatory finger at DJ.

              “Are you seeing Fernando?”

              “No, I’m talking about Matt,” DJ replied. She gasped. “Wait, are _you_ seeing Fernando?”

              Seeming to have backed herself into a corner, Kimmy diverted, “DJ, we’re focusing on you, here.”

              Stephanie caught the deflection and turned on Kimmy, wagging a finger. “No, no, don’t change the subject. Are you back with Fernando, yes or no?”

              “No. Yes. Yes-no.” Kimmy shook her head, apparently confused herself. “I don’t know. We’re hanging out.” She smirked. “And making out. But what about you and Matt?”

              DJ beamed. “We’re making out, too!”

              “Wait, wait, wait,” Stephanie interrupted, re-focusing on Kimmy. “What about your soulmate? I thought you were gonna ‘turn her’ or whatever.”

              DJ snorted. “What? What are you guys talking about?”

              Stephanie ignored her – they’d have to recount _that_ story later – in favor of focusing on Kimmy, who shrugged.

              “It wasn’t a match. Our marks were similar but we’re not soulmates. So I’m going for what’s right in front of me.”

              Stephanie couldn’t help but think that Kimmy had _several_ options in front of her, all of them preferable to her cheating ex-husband.

              DJ rambled on about Matt some more. Apparently, he didn’t mind that DJ’s mark was faded; he kept his own covered, and they both agreed not to talk about them.

              Hearing the other women’s stories, Stephanie felt a small twinge of envy. “I’m going out,” she declared. “And I’m not coming back until I get my _own_ goofy grin.”

              “Well hey, if you want help finding your soulmate,” DJ offered, “you could show us – ”

              “I don’t need a soulmate,” Stephanie interrupted, “just some good, satisfying sex. Think you can help me with that, Deej?”

              At DJ’s blush, Stephanie descended the stairs, determined to go out and have some fun.

*

              It didn’t bother her that Kimmy was dating Fernando again. It’s not like she _cared_ what Kimmy did with her time. Stephanie was focused on her own love life.

              Dating Hunter Pence was something out of a dream. They showed each other their marks early on, and though they weren’t a match, they had fun together. Stephanie had never been with such a muscled man, and she found she quite liked it.

              Then the Giants fans got pissed at her and she broke up with him during the seventh-inning stretch, and that was the end of that.

              Meanwhile, DJ was having her own problems: Matt and Steve found out that she’d been kissing them both. They showed up at the house after the Giants game and, after some arguing and confusion, accidentally kissed each other as they both tried for DJ.

              “Do you see my problem? You’re both great kissers.”

              Steve waved his hand dismissively from side to side. “I was not impressed. Not impressed at all.”

              Matt chased him out the door, protesting, “I wasn’t even trying!”

              Kimmy teasingly called DJ a floosy for agreeing to date both men at once, and the pair headed for the couch to turn on Sports Center. Kimmy was hoping for some free (though Stephanie would call it _questionable_ ) advertising since she and Ramona had gotten kicked out of the game for marching on top of the dugout with their Gibbler Style signs.

              Stephanie approached the front door to lock it, since everyone was home for the night, but as she reached for the handle, she heard voices.

              Matt and Steve’s voices.

              She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she wanted to know what was going on, so she peeked through the house’s extremely underused peephole and… immediately regretted it.

              The men had stopped speaking. Instead, to Stephanie’s immense surprise, they were kissing. Tenderly. With Matt’s hand behind Steve’s head and –

              Matt pulled away first, gently, and murmured, “See? I told you I could do better.”

              Steve blinked at him, expressionless, not moving from where he stood. “Yeah, much better.”

              For a second, neither said anything, and then Steve scrambled for his phone.

              “Here, put in your number. In case something – in case something comes up with… with…”

              “DJ,” Matt finished, taking Steve’s phone and punching in his number. “I’ll text you.”

              “Okay.”

              Another moment of silence, then –

              “Hey, Steph, what’s so interesting out there?” DJ asked.

              “Are the squirrels doing it on the lawn again?”

              Stephanie jerked away from the peephole, desperately wanting to watch longer but not wanting to give the men away. Boy, would _that_ have been a trainwreck. Besides, as far as they all knew, Matt and Steve wanted DJ.

              And that was just an innocent kiss to prove a point.

*

              Breaking up with Hunter was… an ordeal, but it did have its benefits. Specifically, every man and woman in San Francisco wanted to take Stephanie out for peanuts, cracker jacks, and tequila.

              One in particular – an attractive women’s soccer player – caught Stephanie’s eye in her Twitter DMs, and soon, they were headed for a date.

              Maya was cute – just as muscly as Hunter but her kisses were twice as soft. One day, while the kids were at school and DJ at work, Stephanie brought her to the house, though her intentions of bringing her downstairs got delayed in the kitchen, where Maya pressed Stephanie up against the counter and kissed her furiously. They made out there for what must have been five or ten minutes, hands in hair and wrapped around waists, when Stephanie felt another presence in the room.

              She pulled away to find Kimmy standing in the archway that lead to the living room, clutching Tommy to her hip and blinking, lips parted slightly. How long had she been there?

              “Don’t stop on my account,” Kimmy said, shaking herself of that stunned look and cheerfully moving into the room and crossing to the fridge.

              “Kimmy, what are you doing?”

              “Getting Tommy some lunch. He saw an Arby’s commercial and started drooling and bouncing up and down.” She fished around in the refrigerator and pulled out a plate of leftover burgers from the night before. “I think he’s turning into Jackson.”

              “Or he’s just a toddler?” Stephanie suggested, watching Kimmy flit about the kitchen as she settled Tommy in his high chair with a toy and prepared two patties for the microwave.

              Kimmy rolled her eyes. “Arby’s appreciation runs in the family. He saw the burgers and now I have to deliver!” She pulled out some cheese, hamburger buns, and a peach. “Anyways, don’t mind me. Keep smooching away.”

              Stephanie sighed, annoyed by the interruption. “We’ll just go downstairs.” She moved out from beneath Maya and tugged her hand towards the steps that lead to the bedroom.

              She paused at the landing. “Oh, and uh… please don’t mention this to DJ.”

              Kimmy nodded, focusing on cutting up one of the burgers.

              “Of course, don’t worry about it.”

              Stephanie studied her carefully, taking note of how Kimmy had stopped looking her in the eye, an unreadable expression on her face. Had Stephanie said something wrong?

              “Uh… thanks.” She watched Kimmy for another moment, trying to figure out what had just happened. Maybe Kimmy was embarrassed?

              _No_ , Stephanie mused. _Kimmy doesn’t get embarrassed_.

              Nevertheless, Stephanie chose to bring Maya home during this particular time of day for a reason, so the pair wasted no more time in heading downstairs for more advanced action.

              Stephanie and Maya made out on the bed for quite a while, went almost all the way, but Maya’s phone went off. She had to get to practice. They made it out of the house without further incident, and Stephanie drove her back.

              Later that day, after the kids got home but before DJ had, Stephanie found Kimmy in the kitchen, surrounded by pots and pans as she cut up some vegetables for dinner.

              “Hey,” Stephanie broached, hopping up on a barstool. “Whatcha makin’?”

              “Gibbler stew,” Kimmy replied, smiling proudly as she added some of the carrots she’d been cutting into a pot of mysterious brown liquid.

              Stephanie raised an eyebrow. “Do I wanna know what makes it different from regular stew?”

              Just then, Ramona descended the stairs and pulled a sparkling water from the cabinet. She paused to survey the ingredients strewn about the counters and addressed her mom. “Gibbler stew?”

              Kimmy nodded, causing Ramona to smile and reply, “Cool,” as she headed for the living room.

              Watching her leave, Stephanie mused, “Well, if Ramona seems okay with it, then I guess it’s safe for human consumption.”

              Kimmy rolled her eyes. “Ha. Ha.” She moved a bell pepper to the cutting board and began to dice. “So tell me about that girl from earlier,” she said without looking up.

              Stephanie felt a nervousness in her gut, but she didn’t know why. She was an adult! She could make her own decisions! And Kimmy was bi, knew Stephanie was bi – she really had no reason to be nervous. So why was she?

              “Maya – Maya’s good. She’s a soccer player. Wants to play for the Portland Thorns.”

              “Portland as in Oregon?” Kimmy questioned. “That’s pretty far.”

              “Well, we’re not really serious. It’s more of a fling than anything else.”

Was that… _relief_ in Kimmy’s eyes?

              “Oh, okay.” Kimmy continued dicing the pepper. “So she’s not… she’s not your soulmate?”

              “No.” Stephanie thought back to their first date, when they’d revealed their marks just for kicks but agreed they didn’t need to be soulmates to have a little fun. She leaned forward to steal a carrot from the pile Kimmy had set near the stove.

              Kimmy caught the motion and swiped at the carrots with her free hand, a scolding look on her face giving way to a smile.

              “She’s pretty.”

              “Yeah, she is.”

              And there was something there, some sort of queer solidarity between them as Stephanie watched Kimmy cook, but before either of them could say anything else, DJ burst through the door that led to the living room, lugging three bags and looking exhausted. Her entrance dispelled some of the weird tension that’d seeped into the air, and Stephanie couldn’t help but feel relieved about that conversation ending.

              Her relief was short-lived, however, as DJ set down her things and resumed her usual pestering about Stephanie’s Soulmate Mark.

              “Hey, Steph, have you had any luck with Tattoo?”

              A few days prior, DJ had asked Stephanie about the guy from the vet. After Stephanie confirmed that their marks weren’t the same, DJ insisted that Stephanie join the matchmaking app Tattoo, where users uploaded photos of their marks and tagged them with descriptors. Though DJ hovered over Stephanie’s shoulder as she downloaded it, Jackson had miraculously stolen DJ’s attention before Stephanie needed to come up with an excuse not to take a photo of her mark.

              Truthfully, she hadn’t uploaded any picture – even her real mark. She was partly worried that DJ would find it, but mostly she feared that her soulmate would find her as soon as she uploaded the picture. Stephanie read in an article that, as photo-recognition software improved, soulmates were meeting faster than ever. That was a _lot_ to ride on just one picture. Was she _really_ ready to meet her soulmate? What if they didn’t like her? Or, the bigger question – what if they _did_ like her? Stephanie wasn’t sure she could handle a real relationship – all she’d ever had were flings.

              “Uh… nope. Not yet.”

              “Aw, that sucks. Can I see the photo you uploaded?”

              Stephanie buried her phone between her thighs. “It’s not the best picture.”

              “Then let me help you take a better one,” DJ offered, as if the answer were obvious. She moved to stand next to Stephanie at the counter and held out a hand. “C’mon, let me see it.”

              Stephanie crossed her arms protectively. “No.”

              “Steph, just let me see. I’m sure we can – ”

              “No! I don’t want your help. You found your soulmate on your own, why can’t I?”

              DJ’s eyes flashed down to Stephanie’s arms, indicating the black bandana covering her wrist. “You won’t find your soulmate if you keep your mark covered all the time.”

              “Why can’t you let me handle my own business?”

              DJ furrowed her brow. “Geez, Steph. Why are you so protective over it? I’m starting to think you don’t actually have – ”

              She stopped, eyes widening, as if she’d just figured out how quantum theory worked. “Wait, do you even _have_ a Soulmate Mark?”

              She waited for Stephanie’s response with a scolding hand on her hip, but eyes that betrayed any offended hurt as they shined with concern.

              Kimmy looked up too, her benign interest in Stephanie’s mark contrasting DJ’s over-investment in it. “Jimmy doesn’t have a soulmate.”

              Stephanie knew Kimmy was trying to make her more comfortable, to make such a theoretical admission easier to get through, but even if Stephanie told _this_ lie, DJ would probably still want to see her arm.

              So, she resisted. “Look, I just don’t feel comfortable sharing – ”

              “Do you have a Soulmate Mark, yes or no?”

              Stephanie sighed. She looked to Kimmy for help, but found only a shrugging shoulder and expectant eyes – telling her that Kimmy was just as curious about Stephanie’s answer as DJ.

              “Yes.”

              “Then why won’t you show it to me?”

              DJ was never going to let her live this down, was she? Stephanie searched for an answer that would satisfy DJ, but in the heat of the moment, realized her only way out was to tell the truth – or at least part of it.

              “Because I lied, okay?”

              For a moment, no one said anything. DJ’s eyes filled with hurt, as if Stephanie had deeply betrayed her for keeping such a secret.

              “What do you mean, you lied?”

              “My mark. It’s not a robin.”

              DJ blinked at her, hurt and confusion visible in her eyes as she glanced between Stephanie and the bandana.

              “What? Why would you lie about – ”

              “Why wouldn’t I lie? I knew from the moment you started your Spectacular Soulmate Search that you’d never leave me alone about it. And I was right. All you ever do is nag me about finding my soulmate – pairing me up with strangers, signing me up for apps, doing research on marks – ”

              “I just wanna help, Steph.”

              “ _You’re_ more into my soulmate than _I_ am, and we haven’t even met them yet!”

              “I just want to help you find them before it’s too late.”

              The kitchen fell silent. Stephanie glared at DJ, suddenly realizing why DJ was so intense when it came to soulmates. Not that it made anything okay.

              She lowered her voice and spoke quietly. “Just because your soulmate died, doesn’t mean mine will.”

              Without waiting for a response, she turned and disappeared down the basement steps, hoping DJ would give her some space.

              A moment later, the thumping of footsteps on the staircase warned Stephanie of DJ’s entrance. She sighed – not that she’d expected DJ to give up so easily – and crossed her arms as DJ crossed to her, that sad and confused look still present on her face.

              “You think this is about Tommy?”

              “It’s always been about Tommy! From the day you got your mark, you’ve been _obsessed_ with finding him. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to talk about.”

              “So? Soulmates are special. Not everyone gets a mark, and since I had one, I didn’t want to waste one minute of the gift I’d been given.”

              “A gift?” Stephanie grabbed DJ’s wrist and flipped it upward. “You think this is a gift?”

              DJ’s eyes started to water, and Stephanie let go, knowing she’d hit a sensitive spot. “Tommy was the best thing to ever come into my life.”

              Despite DJ’s pained look, Stephanie couldn’t stop herself from continuing.

              “And now that he’s gone, you’re miserable!”

              “That’s _grief_ , Stephanie. You know as much as I do what it’s like to lose someone so important to you.”

              A moment of silence passed over them as they both thought about their mother.

              Stephanie pushed through. “But you act like you’re never going to find love again. And now you’re taking it out on me by focusing on my soulmate.”

              “I do not –”

              Stephanie silenced her with a look.

              “When I was little, I could never understand why Uncle Jesse and Joey didn’t care about their soulmates. But now I get it. Everyone’s so _consumed_ with the tattoos on their arms – either in desperation to find their soulmate or grieving after they’ve lost them. You’re all like zombies. And I don’t want that.”

              As she spoke, she realized not only the intensity of her contempt toward the culture surrounding Soulmate Marks, but also that she’d been feeling this way for as long as she could remember. Now, putting voice to the thoughts that’d been buried inside her, she felt freer.

              She raised her bandana-covered wrist. “ _This_ is not my one shot at love, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting like it.”

              They stared at each other for a moment, DJ’s watery eyes slowly glancing between Stephanie’s face and her wrist. She hated that she’d made DJ upset, but she didn’t know how else to make her understand.

              Finally, DJ nodded, and Stephanie immediately wrapped her in a hug.

              “I’m sorry,” Stephanie said. “Tommy was a great guy. It’s just – ”

              “No,” DJ said, pulling away and swiping at the tears under her eyes. “I get it.” She tilted her head. “I mean, not really… but I get it.”

              Stephanie nodded. “Thanks, Deej.”

              They hugged again, and as they pulled away a second time, DJ’s eyes drifted downwards, to Stephanie’s wrist.

              “I – I know you said you don’t want to look, and I respect that, but… can I…?”

              Stephanie sighed. She wondered how long it would be before DJ committed this fight to amnesia and resumed her badgering.

              “Look, I’ll make you a deal. If I show you my mark, you have to promise to give this up. I don’t care if you run into them at the grocery store, if they show up at the clinic, or if you already know who it is. I don’t wanna hear about it. Promise me that your involvement in my soulmate search stops here.”

              DJ wrung her lips together, and Stephanie could tell she was fighting not to say something.

              “What?”

              “But Uncle Jesse _did_ find his soulmate. And he’s the happiest he’s ever been.”

              Stephanie gestured toward the couch, and they both sat.

              “Yeah, but Uncle Jesse didn’t go looking for her. Becky came to him. And that’s the only way I want to find mine. Organically. I don’t want to be told who I belong with or waste my energy searching for someone who may not even like me. If we’re really meant to be together, fate will find a way to make it happen.”

              DJ sighed – a reluctant, assenting sigh. “Fine. No more meddling.”

              Stephanie nodded, grateful her sister _finally_ understood, and began untying the bandana.

              Before she revealed it though, she raised her eyebrows and gave DJ a pointed look. “Remember, once I show you, you can’t get involved. I don’t wanna hear a single word.”

              “Yeah, yeah, I won’t help you find them,” DJ said dismissively, eyes brightening at the prospect of seeing Stephanie’s Soulmate Mark for the first time. “Now show me!”

              Stephanie glanced between her wrist and her sister, took a deep breath, and pulled away the fabric.

              Silence filled the room as DJ stared at the jasmine, its black lines refusing to give way to her soulmate’s moods. Stephanie studied DJ’s face, waiting for a reaction. Her expression had sobered from its excited state to a more serious, focused look.

              Finally, a tentative hand reached out, asking permission to touch the mark. Stephanie held her arm closer, allowing DJ to gently trace the tattoo.

              “It’s – it’s beautiful,” she murmured, eyes wide in what Stephanie could only classify as awe. “Um… what – what is it?”

              “A jasmine.”

              DJ gave a small nod as if in a trance, her eyes zeroed in on the mark.

              They stayed like that for another minute before DJ glanced up, seeming to analyze Stephanie way more than necessary.

              “And you don’t know who your soulmate is?”

              Stephanie shook her head. “Nope.”

              DJ studied it for a moment longer before clearing her throat and standing.

              “Kimmy probably,” she cleared her throat again. “Kimmy’s probably close to having dinner ready.”

              Stephanie stood with her, eyeing her carefully. “You okay? Need some water?”

              A hand flew to DJ’s chest. “I – I’m fine.” She hesitated before moving in for another hug, and Stephanie returned it. DJ squeezed her tightly, rubbing a hand across her back. “Thank you for showing me.”

              As DJ ascended the stairs, Stephanie retied the bandana around her wrist, hoping that DJ would keep her promise and stop meddling for once in her life.

*

              After dinner – surprisingly delicious, Stephanie had to admit – DJ and Stephanie helped Kimmy clean up.

              Which quickly turned into DJ and Stephanie doing all of the cleaning while Kimmy sat on her phone at the table.

              Suddenly, Kimmy smacked her free hand on the table and jumped up, squealing.

              “What’s going on?”

              “Are you finally going to help us?” Stephanie goaded, running a towel over the dish DJ handed her.

              Kimmy ignored her and smiled excitedly at DJ. “Gibbler Style’s doing a Soulmate Party!” She read on, her eyes suddenly widening. “Saturday? Today’s Thursday! That’s only 48 hours to prepare!”

              DJ shrugged. “Soulmate Parties do happen kind of fast.”

              “Yeah, but I’ve got a birthday party tomorrow. If I’m gonna do this party, I’m gonna need to hire some help.”

              Without warning, a pair of wet, soapy hands squeezed Stephanie’s shoulders and turned her towards the other end of the kitchen.

              “Gee,” DJ started. “I wonder who has no money, no job, and a lot of free time on her hands.”

              Stephanie shrugged out of her sister’s grip. “Uh, no thank you. I have big plans tomorrow.”

              DJ looked at her with a deadpan expression. “You’re sleeping in and watching the View.”

              “And tweeting about it,” Stephanie added.

              “Oh, come on, Steph. You could use the money.”

              “I’d really appreciate the help.”

              Stephanie studied Kimmy for a moment, all hot pink T-shirt and cupcake scarf. Forty-eight hours with this woman? She’d rather catch the stomach bug and puke for three days.

              Then again, Kimmy _would_ pay her.

              “Okay, I’m in.”

              “You’re lucky I’m desperate,” Kimmy told her. “Welcome to the wonderful world of Gibbler-Style Party Planning. During business hours, you shall refer to me as Ms. Gibbler.”

              Stephanie blinked. She glanced at DJ, as if to ask, ‘ _is she serious?_ ’ but was met only with an amused smile. Turning back to Kimmy, she summoned every ounce of sarcasm she could muster.

              “I quit.”

              “You can’t quit now! You’re indispensable.” Kimmy’s attention returned to her phone as she scrolled through emails and added notes to a to-do list. “Now, the party is candy-themed – I guess the couple showed their marks after sharing a bag of M&M’s – so I need you to go to Costco and buy every candy you can find in bulk. I’ll start pulling together some decoration ideas.”

              Stephanie nodded. Simple enough.

              “Oh, and before making any decisions, always crawl inside my brain and ask yourself, ‘What would Kimmy do?’”

              Stephanie stared at Kimmy. Good grief, she was going to regret this.

*

              Stephanie didn’t remember a _lot_ about Jesse and Becky’s soulmate party, but she _was_ there for DJ’s, as well as Nicky and Alex’s, and none of those parties were _nearly_ as Extra as this one.

              The list Kimmy gave her was _huge,_ and it had some _weird_ stuff on there. Of course, Stephanie had to buy the normal balloons, streamers, confetti… but she also had to buy a blow-up kiddie pool, some plastic, three-foot-long candy canes, and several wigs.

              “What is all this stuff _for_?” Stephanie questioned as they unloaded the car.

              “We’re going for a Candy Land theme. I’ve already emailed the soulmates about dressing up as Queen Frostine and King Kandy. I’m dressing up as Princess Loli, and you’ll be Mr. Mint. The cardstock is for the game board – we’re going to build them a life-size version to play at the party!”

              “Hey, why can’t I be Princess Loli?”

              “Would you rather be Grandma Nutt?”

              Stephanie blinked. To be fair, she didn’t quite care, and it appeared that her options were slim.

              “Okay, I’ll be Mr. Mint. What about the pool?”

              “We’re filling it with chocolate milk.”

              Furrowing her brow, Stephanie tried to picture enough chocolate milk to fill a kiddie pool. Wouldn’t that stink after a while, if it’s not kept cold? Why would anyone _want_ a kiddie pool of chocolate milk?

              She shook her head. Whatever Kimmy wanted to do for this party was fine by her. Stephanie wouldn’t be taking the heat for it if it went wrong, at least. “What else do we need to do?”

              “After we unload the car, I want to test out a few of the candy-themed margaritas.”

              “Oooh, I can definitely help with that.”

              Just then, Steve pulled up in his car, a bouquet of flowers in his hands as he exited the vehicle.

              “Hey, Kimmy! Hey, Steph!”

              “Hey, Steve,” the women replied, setting down their things to greet him.

              “Is DJ inside?”

              “Yep,” Kimmy replied. “Your high school sweetheart is ready for your date!”

              “Awesome.” He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Now, you gotta tell me about my competition. How was her date with Matt?”

              Kimmy smirked at him. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. She’s definitely gonna pick you.”

              Stephanie kept her mouth shut, remembering the secret kiss she’d witnessed. However, seeing Steve now, with an excited smile and clear love in his eyes for DJ, she mused that maybe it really _didn’t_ mean anything after all.

              “Awesome.” He hurried inside, leaving Stephanie and Kimmy to continue lugging boxes.

*

              Stephanie surveyed the party from where she stood at the DJ table. Their life-size Candy Land board snaked around one corner of the room, keeping the kids mostly entertained. So far, Stephanie’s favorite part has been sneaking candy margaritas when Kimmy wasn’t looking.

              She pulled at the collar of her red and white striped turtleneck. Currently, she sported that shirt, some red overalls, and a candy cane hat and boots. Kimmy came up with _amazing_ costumes for the soulmates, who both seemed excited about the theme and played along with whatever shenanigans Kimmy had in store for them.

              The soulmates were clearly a couple. Both looked at each other with lovey-dovey, head-over-heels affection and snuck secret looks and held hands whenever possible. Stephanie didn’t doubt that the pair would soon be engaged, which explained why Kimmy had been up her ass about every little detail for the past day and a half – if Gibbler Style did well here, the couple might ask them to help with their bachelor parties or even the wedding.

              Just then, Kimmy approached the table, donned in her curly pink wig and yellow lollipop dress. She clutched her clipboard to her chest, and Stephanie hoped Kimmy wasn’t coming over to scold her for something. Luckily, though, she seemed to be smiling.

              “Hey, Mr. Mint, how goes it?”

              “Pretty good, Princess Loli. Everything going well on your end?”

              “Yep. I’d say we knocked this party out of the park. Mr. Hunter just paid me and left a _huge_ tip. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

              “Thanks, Kimmy. You know, it was kind of fun helping you plan this party.”

              Kimmy studied her for a moment, as if debating something.

              “How would you like to be junior partner at Gibbler Style?”

              “Really?” A full-time gig would be perfect. She imagined it wouldn’t always be steady pay – Kimmy seemed to advertise at every chance she could get – but at least it’d be money.

              And, Stephanie had to admit, she kind of enjoyed working with Kimmy, if only to get an up-close and personal view of how the other woman’s brain worked. Over the past day and a half, all of her quirks and kooky ideas had become… almost _cute_. More than once, Stephanie found herself staring at the decorations or the party activities and thinking: _Only Kimmy could come up with something like that._

              “Absolutely. You really came through for me, and I think it’d make everything run a lot more smoothly with some extra help.”

              Stephanie smiled, unable to believe that she was actually _happy_ about the potential to work with Gibbler again.

              “Sure, thanks, Kimmy.” She held out her hand. “Put ‘er there, partner.”

              Kimmy took her hand – all soft palm and firm grip – and shook it before glancing out at the crowd, still dancing to Stephanie’s music.

              “They look like they’re having fun.”

              “Yeah,” Stephanie replied, dropping Kimmy’s hand to transition into the next song – a slow dance.

              They watched as people began to pair up on the dance floor. Queen Frostine and King Kandy, already together on the floor, settled into a comfortable embrace and began to sway from side to side.

              Kimmy tugged Stephanie’s arm and tilted her head toward the crowd. “Do you wanna dance?”

              Stephanie blinked. “Come again?”

              “C’mon, stop working for a minute and have some fun with me.”

              “Uh, you’ve been telling me to work harder for the past 48 hours, and now you’re telling me to stop?”

              “Just… take a break. You just switched the songs. Come dance with me.”

              Kimmy’s eyes were wide, pleading. They weren’t like from when she’d asked Stephanie to help with the party – this was different. She seemed like she actually just wanted to dance, and Stephanie couldn’t think of any sort of ulterior motive to the act.

              She sighed.

              “I can’t leave the table, but we can dance here if you want.”

              “Okay.”

              Kimmy stepped toward her. Stephanie put her hands on her waist, the course costume fabric rough against her fingertips. In return, Kimmy reached out and put both hands firmly on Stephanie’s ass.

              “Kimmy!” She felt a squeeze and jumped. “What are you doing?”

              Kimmy glanced up at her with confused, clueless eyes. “Isn’t this what everyone does when they slow dance?”

              “Uh… it most certainly is not.” Stephanie gently took Kimmy’s hands and moved them up to her shoulders. “This is where your arms are supposed to go.”

              Kimmy smiled and brought her voice to a whisper. “If you say so.”

              They swayed from side to side in time with the music. Stephanie couldn’t remember a time she’d ever _willingly_ stood this close to Kimmy. She tried to ignore how stupid they both looked, with Kimmy’s ridiculous wig and Stephanie’s candy cane getup. Kimmy’s perfume smelled sweet and fruity, like watermelon-something-or-other.

              “This is nice,” Stephanie murmured.

              “Yeah. It is.”

              And Stephanie found she quite liked dancing in Kimmy’s arms.

              And then the song started to end, so Stephanie slipped herself out of the embrace to play the next song in the queue. Kimmy squeezed her elbow in goodbye before going off into the crowd, supposedly to check on something.

              A few songs later, Queen Frostine approached the table.

              “Song request?” Stephanie asked.

              “No, no,” the woman replied. “I just wanted to tell you how much we love this party. It’s really great. Justin and I could never have come up with something this cool.”

              “It’s our pleasure.”

              “Thank you, Mrs. Gibbler.”

              “You’re wel – ”

              Wait a second.

              “Did you call me Mrs. Gibbler?”

              “Yes, I – I just assumed…”

              “Oh, we’re not together.”

              Queen Frostine smiled at her, seeming to think otherwise. “Well, you looked pretty cozy together, anyways.”

              Stephanie stared at her for a moment before shaking her head to dismiss the thought. She thanked the woman for choosing Gibbler Style, and Queen Frostine strode off to find her soulmate. As she snuck up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, Stephanie began to think about the woman with the tattoo sleeves, and how she hadn’t ended up with her soulmate, even after they’d met. Though Stephanie never really cared about her own mark, she’d always assumed that if her soulmate showed up, she’d still give them a shot. Now, as she watched Kimmy flit about the room, checking on this or that, she wondered if it were really possible to forego that plan entirely, forego a _soulmate_ , if she loved someone enough.

              It certainly worked for Kimmy the first time around.

*

              Reality came crashing back a week later, when Fernando approached Stephanie in private and asked if she could help him with something.

              “Uh, yeah, sure. What is it?”

              He wanted her to help write a song for Kimmy – or, rather, help put his already-written lyrics to music.

              “I’m going to give her the best day ever, then serenade her with a beautiful ballad, and propose!”

              Stephanie narrowed her eyes. “You’re already married.”

              Fernando sighed as if it were obvious. “I am going to sign the divorce papers, and then we will get _re_ -married.”

              Somewhere inside her, something protested, grating at her insides and telling her not to do it.

              But this would make Kimmy happy, so she agreed to help.

              And then, the day of, Fernando decided to be a freaking baby about it and made Stephanie perform the song. But he didn’t just make her sing the lyrics – no, she had to perform the romantic gestures, too.

              It was awkward and uncomfortable, because it was supposed to be Fernando’s song and it was _Kimmy Gibbler,_ and Stephanie never gave affection or kisses, only received them, but also Kimmy’s skin was so _soft_ when Stephanie took her hand, when she nibbled her arm.

              And then Kimmy announced, “There’s no stoppin’ now!” and smashed her lips against Stephanie’s, and surprisingly, it was actually… nice. Really nice. And her lips tasted like sweet strawberry but then they were pulling away and Stephanie stumbled back to lean against an amused DJ in shock.

              Fernando swept up his fiancé in his arms and professed his love for her, and Stephanie’s involvement was forgotten.

              No one would ever ask, but if they did, she’d never actually let it slip that, yeah, maybe she actually _enjoyed_ kissing a Gibbler.

*

              Kimmy and Fernando decided to hijack Jesse and Becky’s 25th wedding anniversary vow renewal.

              Surprisingly not the weirdest or rudest thing they’d ever done.

              Kimmy insisted on a bachelorette party, so she, DJ, Stephanie, and Becky got dressed up and headed for the bars.

              They were all three shots deep when Becky’s Soulmate Mark flashed a happy red – just for a moment – before turning back to black.

              “Aw, looks like Jesse’s having fun with the boys,” she remarked, smiling at the flaming heart on her arm and looking to Stephanie like the happiest woman alive.

              And yeah, maybe for a moment, Stephanie felt just a tad jealous that Jesse and Becky had found each other without even trying. She wondered if it really _was_ fate, or if it’d just been sheer luck that actually brought them together.

              Apparently, Kimmy was thinking the same thing, because as she smacked her shot glass down on the table, she slurred, “I wonder what my soulmate is doing right now.”

              Becky tilted her head and replied as if the answer were obvious. “He’s probably thinking about how much he loves you, and how excited he is about tomorrow.”

              Three sets of eyes boggled as if she were crazy.

              “Fernando’s not my soulmate.”

              “Really?” Becky questioned. “Who is?”

              Kimmy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

               “And you’re just going to… remarry him? Even though he’s not your soulmate?”

              “Yeah, actually,” Stephanie chimed in, too tipsy to stop herself from speaking, “I kind of want to hear this. I get marrying him the first time, but now? After he cheated on you?”

              Kimmy waved her hand dismissively. “That’s in the past. He’s come a long way since then.”

              “Yeah, but what about your soulmate?” DJ pressed. “Why are you staying with Fernando when your soulmate is still out there somewhere?” Stephanie felt her heart skip a beat, wondering if her fight with DJ had just set the other woman on Kimmy’s course instead. Stephanie shook the thought from her head. Kimmy was getting _married_. She supposed there wasn’t much DJ could say to stop that from happening, especially since that wedding had happened once already.

              Throwing her arms out to indicate the table, Kimmy exclaimed, “Do you _see_ my soulmate here?”

              “You tell her, Kimmy!” Stephanie said, surprised yet again by the fact that she agreed with the woman for once. “You shouldn’t have to wait around for fate to bring you together.”

              “Yeah,” Kimmy replied. “I’m almost 40 years old, and I still haven’t found my soulmate. At this point, I doubt I ever will.”

              She made a big show of untying the leopard scarf wrapped around her wrist and threw her arm down in the middle of the table for the others to see.

              Stephanie’s heart nearly stopped.

               How had she never seen Kimmy’s mark before? Sure, the woman was still more DJ’s friend than Stephanie’s, but they’ve _talked_ about soulmates – several times! Not to mention that they’ve definitely had a moment or two of bisexual understanding between them.

              Now, seeing Kimmy’s Soulmate Mark for the first time, Stephanie wondered how the mark itself had never come up. There, in plain view of the table, lay the same mark Stephanie had been drawing in the margins of her diaries, notebooks, and sheet music for _years_ – a beautiful, black jasmine, with elegant lines and tiny pistils, petals fanning out and seeming to mock Stephanie from where they lay etched in Kimmy’s skin.

              No, this could _not_ be happening. Kimmy Gibbler _could not_ be her –

Stephanie blinked, refusing to believe it. No. How could Kimmy freaking _Gibbler_ have the same – ?

              “This person,” Kimmy announced, throwing her wrist down in the middle of the table, “is nonexistent. They’re probably already married to some famous rich asshole who could buy them as many marble statues of Patrick Swayze as they want.” She shrugged. “They mean nothing to me.”

              Becky leaned in to examine the tattoo. “Oh, wow, Kimmy. That’s beautiful. Does it change colors?”

              Kimmy scoffed. “Of course it changes colors. It’s a Soulmate Mark.” She picked up her arm and set her elbow on the table in front of her, pulling her wrist in for a good look. “My point is, whoever _this_ is,” she turned her wrist to the table again, and Stephanie’s breath hitched as she verified that _yes_ , Kimmy’s Soulmate Mark was indeed identical to her own, “they’re not coming. This is just some silly, meaningless connection. Can I see when they’re happy or sad? Yes. Are they here right now?”

              Stephanie felt heat rise around her chest and neck. She was here. She was Kimmy’s – No, she couldn’t be –

              The music pounded in her ears. She couldn’t think.

              “No, they’re not. And Fernando _is_ here. He’s sorry about what he did, and he makes me happy. Should I have to give up that happiness to wait for some magical person who’s never showing up? _No_.”

              Aunt Becky placed a comforting hand on Kimmy’s free arm. “Kimmy, I had no idea.”

              Kimmy attempted to wrap her leopard bandana back around her wrist, but struggled in her tipsy state. DJ reached in to help, sneaking a concerned glance at Stephanie, and good _grief_ , was this a mess.

              Stephanie cleared her throat, needing to get out of there, _now_. “I’m gonna get us some more shots. Anyone else want some?”

              She barely looked at the table for responses before shooting out of her chair and racing to the bar.


	5. speak now or forever hold your peace

              Kimmy.

 _Kimmy_ was her soulmate.

              How did–? When did this–? They were barely even _friends._ Women who happened to share a living space.

              Stephanie squeezed her eyes shut. That wasn’t exactly true.

              Nevertheless, all she could feel in that moment was shock. How in the _world_ could _Kimmy Gibbler_ – obnoxious bird-legs and bird-brain sass extraordinaire – have the same tattoo?

              She glanced around at the crowd, making sure to stand at an angle where the trio across the room couldn’t see, before snapping off the leather cuff from her own wrist.

              There it was. The _same exact Soulmate Mark_ they’d all seen just a moment ago on Kimmy’s arm. But Stephanie’s was colored orange – just for a brief moment – before fading back to black.

              Was orange _anger_?

              Stephanie vaguely recalled a moment four weeks ago, during her and Ramona’s emergency dance practice. She’d still been in her pajamas – an over-sized T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts – when she demonstrated a complicated move that could lead into the Gibbler Gallop. Ramona, who’d been watching her bare feet closely, pointed out that the ladybug on Stephanie’s ankle had turned orange.

              Stephanie didn’t think much of it then – her soulmate had been the last thing on her mind, especially with Kimmy being pissed at her about –

              Shit.

              Was Kimmy angry at her _now_?

              Stephanie felt a pang of guilt, but immediately chided herself for it. She had no reason to feel guilty – it’s not like she’d ever seen Kimmy’s mark before, not like she could’ve _known_ that they were soulmates.

              Then again, she’d just let that whole conversation play out without saying a word.

              But what could she have said? Kimmy obviously held a certain level of contempt for her soulmate. _And_ she was getting _married_ tomorrow. What was Stephanie supposed to do?

              “What can I get you?”

              She looked up. The bartender stood right in front of her, passing a card and receipt to the person on her right.

              “Uh… eight shots of tequila for me and my friends.”

              As an afterthought, she added, “Make that nine.”

              She held up the card with their tab number and indicated their table. As he added the shots to their tab and began pouring, a tap on the shoulder drew Stephanie’s attention.

              DJ stood just behind her, concern evident as she glanced between Stephanie’s face and her Soulmate Mark.

              “Are you alright?”

              Stephanie hurriedly snapped her bracelet back on to cover the mark before hissing, “You knew about this?”

              “You told me not to say anything.”

              “I know!” Stephanie said, silently cursing herself as she thanked the bartender for the drinks. As she turned back to DJ, she braced herself and asked, “Does _she_?”

              “What?”

              “Does Kimmy know? That we’re…” She couldn’t even finish the phrase.

              DJ shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She put a hand on Stephanie’s shoulder and squeezed. “I swear, Steph, I kept my promise. I never told her or got involved – ”

              “Besides convincing me to help her with that soulmate party?”

              Blushing, DJ nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Okay, so maybe I saw an opportunity and I took it. But I promise, I never said a word, to her or anyone else.”

              Stephanie could see that DJ was genuine. “Okay, good.” She sighed and rubbed her left arm with her hand, trying to process.

              “So what are you gonna do?”

              Taking the proffered tray of shots from the bartender, Stephanie downed a shot right then and there, setting the empty glass on the counter.

              “I’m gonna drink.”

              She started to head back, but DJ blocked her path with a hand on the hip and a stern look.

              “Deej , what do you _want_ me to do? Her _wedding’s_ tomorrow. She’s got enough on her plate as it is.” Stephanie snuck a glance at the table, where Kimmy and Becky laughed hysterically at some joke one of them must’ve made. “Besides, she’s drunk. Even if I _did_ say something, she’s not going to remember it. And I’m pretty sure I’d want my soulmate to remember the moment she meets me.”

              “But she’s already met you.”

              “She’s met Stephanie Tanner, her best friend’s little sister. She hasn’t met Stephanie Tanner, her soulmate.”

              DJ gave her an exasperated look, acknowledging that Stephanie had a point but highlighting the fact that she still thought Stephanie should say something.

              “DJ, you have to swear to me that you won’t tell her. She’s _my_ …” She swallowed, her throat still tingling from the shot she’d taken. “It should be my decision.”

              Though DJ seemed reluctant, she sighed. “I’ve kept it a secret this long. Just, promise me that you’ll tell her afterwards.”

              Stephanie looked at Kimmy again, eyeing the leopard scarf on her wrist and picturing the mark beneath it.

              In lieu of an answer, Stephanie pushed past DJ and carried the tray to the table, to the delighted squeals of the women sitting there.

              “Oooh, more shots!” Kimmy exclaimed, already seeming to have moved on from her resentment and ready to party again.

              They passed out a round, and Kimmy held hers in the air for a toast.

              “To second chances, and happily ever after!”

              The other three repeated her cheer, Stephanie’s quiet, stumbling voice lost beneath the others’. “To second chances and happily ever after!”

              Stephanie’s shot burned all the way down, covering up the hollow, confused feeling that had taken over her insides.

              They moved on to the second round before deciding to hit the dance floor, though Stephanie didn’t feel like it anymore.

              She’d found her soulmate, but it seemed her soulmate didn’t want anything to do with her.

*

              The next morning, an abrupt, cacophonous call of a rooster jolted Stephanie out of her sleep.

              She let out a yell. Who the _heck_ was waking her up like this?

              Smacking a throw pillow in the direction of the noise, she became conscious of three things at once:

              The rooster call was not real, but a recording from someone’s phone.

              A small “oof” gave away her intruder as one Kimmy Gibbler.

              And _damn_ , she had one _nasty_ headache.

              As she opened her eyes and brushed blonde hair from her face, she found Kimmy standing over her, clutching the lime green pillow that’d been thrown and sporting a pair of light blue pajamas with chickens patterned all over them.

              “Get up, Blondie. We have to make Jesse and Becky breakfast in bed.”

              Oh, right. As Kimmy’s junior partner to Gibbler Style, she _had_ agreed to help with this.

              Groaning, she reached into her bedside drawer for a couple of Ibuprofen. “Ugh, what time is it?”

              “It’s eight o’clock! We have to get moving. Jesse and Becky asked for their breakfast to be ready at nine.”

              Stephanie wiped the sleep from her eyes, slid her feet into a pair of slippers, and grabbed a nearby robe. “It’s eight? Are the boys up?”

              Kimmy tossed the pillow back onto the now-empty bed. “Ramona, Max, and DJ are eating breakfast. Jackson’s still dead to the world, as far as I know.”

              “Okay.” She followed Kimmy upstairs in a dream-like state. She’d need coffee before she did anything else. “What are we making them?”

              In the kitchen, Max and Ramona sat at the counter with DJ, all three still in their PJs with plates of bacon and eggs in front of them. They greeted her cheerfully, voices like nails on a chalkboard with Stephanie’s headache.

              “French toast, bacon, and eggs with fresh fruit, coffee, and tea.”

              Stephanie made her way to the coffeemaker, thankful to find half a pot already brewed. “Geez, Kimmy, you trying to feed an army?”

              “I asked them yesterday and that’s what they wanted.”

              Stephanie poured herself a mug of coffee, mixing in a healthy amount of cream and sugar before turning to face the room and leaning against the counter.

              Already the island and stove were littered with the remnants of DJ, Max, and Ramona’s breakfast: a partially-used package of bacon sat open on the counter, and a carton of eggs lay next to it. Stephanie swallowed the first few sips of coffee, willing away her headache as she watched Kimmy flit about the kitchen in those ridiculous chicken pajamas.

              “C’mon, Steph, let’s get to work. I’m not paying you to stand there and look pretty.” Kimmy glanced over her shoulder at Stephanie, flitting her eyes from Stephanie’s unkempt hair to her coffee mug, down to the grey tank top and blue plaid pajama pants she wore. Kimmy turned back to the counter and rolled up her pajama sleeves, revealing a bright pink elastic band around her wrist, and suddenly the events from the previous night caught up to Stephanie.

              Kimmy was her soulmate.

 _Kimmy_. She hadn’t imagined that, had she?

              Except, no – that was real. Kimmy had brandished her mark and lamented about her absent soulmate between her third and fourth shot of tequila.

              This had to be some sort of joke. There’s no way fate chose _Kimmy_ to be her soulmate. They’d hated each other since they met, always arguing and fighting and insulting each other…

              …but, Stephanie mused as she tilted her head, since they’d graduated, their fighting had become less hostile and more banter-y. Didn’t Kimmy just call her pretty? Maybe in a teasing way, but still.

              And, Stephanie had to admit, as she studied Kimmy in this new light, she did look kind of cute in those stupid pajamas.

              “Steph!”

              “Right, sorry!” She took a final gulp of her coffee and started rifling in the fridge for some fruit to cut up.

              “So, Mom,” Ramona started, grinning. “You excited for today?”

              Stephanie felt a knot in her stomach.

              Right. That’s why they went out last night. Kimmy was getting married.

              Not that she cared. Stephanie couldn’t care less. She and Kimmy were nothing, more like frenemies than actual friends. And Kimmy’s been with Fernando for fifteen years. There was no way Kimmy would actually choose her.

              Not even if they were _soulmates_.

              “Of course, sweetie.” Kimmy straightened – as if Ramona’s words had reminded her just how excited she was – and shot a glance at Stephanie before continuing. “Fernando and I are getting a fresh start, and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

              Stephanie glanced down at her own wrist, Soulmate Mark covered by the same wide leather bracelet she’d worn last night. She wondered if it was changing colors before realizing with a start that it’d probably pulse with rainbow all day long.

              “And we’re all happy for you,” DJ replied, shooting a pointed look at Stephanie. “Right, Steph?”

              Stephanie fumbled the apple she was slicing. Screw DJ and her addictive need to meddle.

              “Yep. Very happy.”

              The dig was subtle, but no less infuriating. DJ clearly still thought Stephanie should tell Kimmy as soon as possible, and Stephanie was sure she wouldn’t stop these little digs until something happened. She’d have to corner her later and explain what _keeping one’s mouth shut_ actually meant.

              _C’mon, Steph, pull yourself together._

              Kimmy and Stephanie moved about the kitchen in tandem, working like a well-oiled machine to finish breakfast. They piled trays with the feast and asked their audience for approval.

              “Looks delicious!” DJ complimented, hovering over the counter for a peek.

              “Jesse and Becky are going to _love_ this!” Kimmy replied. “C’mon, Steph, let’s go bring our clients their Gibbler Style breakfast in bed.”

*

              Jesse and Becky were quite happy with their breakfast. Kimmy instructed them to leave their trays when they finished – Gibbler Style would take care of them. Stephanie found out a few minutes later that _Gibbler Style_ meant _just Stephanie_ , since DJ and Ramona stole Kimmy away to set curlers in her hair.

              Stephanie decided that, in need of a heavy dose of grease, she would kill time by making her own breakfast. As she descended the stairs to the kitchen, she wondered when her hangover-free deejaying days had ended. Probably when she moved in here.

              In the kitchen, she found that Jackson had stolen DJ’s spot next to Max. She chatted with the boys while she made her own breakfast and downed a second mug of coffee. Once she’d finished eating, she climbed the two flights of stairs leading to the attic, figuring Jesse and Becky had had enough time to eat (and possibly go at it again if they’d felt like it).

              When she entered, she found Becky lounging in the bed with Tommy plopped in front of her on his back.

              “…and we pit it, we pat it, we mark it with a ‘T’…” Becky brought Tommy’s foot to his chest and drew an invisible _T_. “… and we put it in the oven for you and me!” She moved Tommy’s feet along with the rhyme and tickled him as she finished.

              Stephanie smiled to herself. Becky seemed to have gone baby-crazy over the past few months, spending as much time with Tommy as possible during her visits to San Francisco.

              “Hey,” Steph greeted, crossing to the bed and kissing Tommy hello. “Where’s Uncle Jesse?”

              “In the shower,” Becky answered in her regular voice. “I went down to check on this one and, when I saw he was awake, I brought him up here.”

              Stephanie sat on the end of the bed and teased, “You know, DJ’s gonna notice if she only has two boys by the end of the night.”

              “Oh, I know,” Becky chuckled. “I just miss when they were this little, you know?”

              Stephanie smiled, understanding where Becky was coming from. Though Tommy wasn’t her own, Stephanie loved him just as much and dreaded the day he’d grow up and pretend to be too cool to hang out with his family.

              “You excited for your big day?”

              Becky’s eyes lit up as they always did when she talked about Jesse. “I am. I love Jesse so much. I can’t believe it’s been 25 years.”

              “I know, it’s incredible.”

              “A little birdie told me you wrote a song for us.” She smiled at her. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

              Stephanie forced a grin. She’d… forgotten about that. Though she wrote it for Jesse and Becky, and was still excited to play it for them, she supposed the song would now be for Kimmy’s wedding, too. She didn’t know how to feel about that.

              She watched Becky play with Tommy, catching a glimpse of her flaming heart tattoo, currently a bright shade of red – Jesse’s “happy” shade.

              “Hey, Becky?”

              “Mm-hmm?” she replied without lifting her eyes.

              “Can I ask you something?”

              Becky looked up, sensing her seriousness. “Sure, what is it?”

              Stephanie took a moment to choose her words carefully.

              “I know that, when Jesse proposed to you, he showed you his Soulmate Mark and said he didn’t care if you weren’t his soulmate – that he just wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.”

              Becky nodded, smiling wistfully as she remembered.

              “He did. It was very romantic.”

              Stephanie shifted. Twenty-four hours ago, Stephanie been dead set on Not Caring about her soulmate and continuing to live her life. Now that her soulmate was about to get married to someone else, her feelings were changing.

              But she also knew that, when it came down to it, all she wanted was for Kimmy to be happy.

              “If your Soulmate Mark didn’t match his – when he proposed – would you still have said yes?”

              Becky stayed quiet for a moment, thinking.

              “I’d like to think I would have. I probably would’ve wondered who my soulmate was, but soulmates can be platonic. And I was so in love with Jesse at that point that I don’t think his mark would have mattered.”

              Stephanie nodded, disappointed. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

              Furrowing her brow at Stephanie’s crestfallen reaction, Becky replied, “Why do you ask?”

              Stephanie hesitated, unsure of how much of the truth she should share. It might help to talk about this with someone, but she also didn’t want to tell her _everything_.

              “I don’t know.” She figured it’d be safe to use Kimmy’s reveal as an example. “Kimmy and Fernando aren’t soulmates, and _they’re_ getting married.” She glanced down at Tommy, who’d grabbed his foot and started sucking on his toes. “I just don’t think it’s gonna happen with mine.”

              Becky reached out to rub Stephanie’s arm and offered a grim smile. “You never know. Things can change in a minute.” Tilting her head, Becky studied her for a moment, her eyes as comforting and inviting as they’d always been when Stephanie was growing up. “Are you thinking about marriage?”

              Stephanie shrugged, trying to figure out how to answer. The joke came instinctually. “I mean, we _are_ about to have a wedding here.”

              “Yes,” Becky chuckled. “I suppose that would do it.”

              “I don’t know,” Stephanie continued. “I guess I’m just thinking about what would happen if me or my soulmate got married to other people. Y’know?”

              Becky took a moment to think. “Well, you know, lots of soulmates are best friends. You don’t _have_ to get married to your soulmate.”

              “ _You_ did.”

              Leaning in toward her, Becky lowered her voice. “Well, the truth is, I kind of had a hunch. We always had this spark, this chemistry that always felt right. But I also think I would’ve married him either way.”

              They stared at each other for a moment.

              “I’m not helping, am I?”

              Stephanie chuckled. “You’re giving me mixed signals here.”

               “Well,” Becky mused, “I think you just have to ask yourself what you want.”

              Playing with the rings on her fingers, Stephanie sighed.

              “That’s the thing. I don’t know what I want. Or what she wants. But I can’t help wondering if – ” Stephanie froze, realizing her mistake immediately.

              Becky’s eyes lit up excitedly. “You know who it is?”

              Stephanie held her breath. She just revealed knowledge about her soulmate _and_ her interest in women in one fell swoop. She already mentioned Kimmy once. Plus, the whole conversation was about _marriage_ , and who was getting married tonight? This was too much information. What if Becky put two and two together? She had to wrap this up.

              “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not gonna happen with her. Romantically.”

              Becky reached across the bed for Stephanie’s hand and squeezed, offering a supportive smile. “Well, does she know?”

              While it felt good to be talking like this, to have Becky’s support, Stephanie forced herself to stand. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She crossed to the trays and began consolidating dishes. Becky watched her silently for a moment. Stephanie tried to hurry her tidying so she could get out of there faster and avoid this whole conversation completely.

              Just as she was about to leave, Becky called her name.

              “I don’t know what obstacles are in your way, but know that it could change. Fate has a way of making things happen. Just follow your heart.”

              Stephanie offered a half smile, appreciating the effort. “Thanks, Aunt Becky.”

*

              Down in the kitchen, Stephanie busied herself with washing breakfast dishes.

              Part of her _wanted_ to tell Kimmy, knew she probably _should_ tell Kimmy, regardless of what it would end up meaning, but the other part of her kept saying that this was the wrong time, that she should wait.

              And honestly, Stephanie just wanted both parts of her to shut up.

              Footsteps thumped on the staircase, and then DJ entered the kitchen.

              “We finished with Kimmy’s hair. Now it just has to set.”

              Another set of footsteps sounded as Kimmy bound into the kitchen, wrapped up in a mint green robe with her hair rolled up in a dozen pink curlers.

              DJ narrowed her eyes as Kimmy crossed the kitchen. “Kimmy, what are you doing? I thought Ramona was drawing you a bath.”

              “I know. I got thirsty.” Kimmy brushed a hand across Stephanie’s back as she passed her on the way to the fridge. She paused, hand still resting between Stephanie’s shoulder blades as she leaned in and kissed Stephanie on the cheek. “Hey, babe.”

              Stephanie watched as Kimmy opened the fridge and poured herself some OJ, as if nothing had even happened.

              “ _Babe_?” Stephanie repeated, heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings. “That’s a new one.”

              Kimmy shrugged. “Well, I can’t call you sister-wife anymore, now that I’m about to have a _real_ wife.”

              DJ and Stephanie stared at her. After a moment, Kimmy seemed to realize what she’d said, scrunching her brow in thought before waving a hand in dismissal.

              “I need something else to call you.”

              “Uh… how about just Stephanie?”

              “‘Just Stephanie’? But you’re not a judge.”

              DJ shook her head at her friend’s obliviousness. “I know something you can call her.”

              Stephanie pointed a finger at DJ. “Oh, I know something we can call you, too.”

              Luckily, Ramona’s voice called down the staircase, distracting them all from how close DJ had gotten to revealing a secret. _Stephanie’s_ secret.

              “Mom, your bath’s ready!”

              Kimmy’s face brightened. “Oooh! Coming!” She squeezed Stephanie’s arm and DJ’s hand as she passed them, carrying her OJ with her and heading for whatever oasis the others had planned for her.

              As soon as they heard the upstairs bathroom door shut, Stephanie stuck out her finger again, pointing accusingly at DJ.

              “You do _not_ get to do that, okay?”

              DJ shrugged. “What? You guys are cute.”

              Uh, no. DJ was _not_ starting this.

              “You do _not_ get to tease me with the fact that you know,” she grit through her teeth. “And we’re not cute.”

              Crossing to where Stephanie stood, DJ picked up a towel and began to dry. “Oh, relax. I promised I wouldn’t tell her, and I’m gonna keep that promise.”

              Stephanie rolled her eyes. “ _I know something you can call her_ ,” she mocked. “How does that _not_ sound like you’re about to tell her?”

              DJ scoffed. “C’mon, Steph, I’m just playing.” She lowered her voice. “I really think you should tell her.”

              “No.”

              “Why not?”

              “Because,” Stephanie said, passing DJ a plate. “It’s her wedding day. She has enough going on.”

              “So? Don’t you think she deserves to know? _Before_ the wedding?”

              Stephanie tried to play it cool. “No, because this doesn’t affect anything. Why would she _need_ to know _right_ _now_? We’re the She-Wolf pack – best friends forever, right?”

              DJ swiped the rag from Stephanie’s hands.

              “Hey!”

              She stared Stephanie down with a serious expression, seeming to contemplate her next words.

              “That’s not what you want and we both know it.”

              Stephanie bit the inside of her cheek.

              The thing was, she _couldn’t_ tell Kimmy now. Couldn’t force Kimmy to pick her over Fernando. Not right before her wedding. Not right before she married a man she was already in love with.

              Maybe once things were settled. After the wedding.

              DJ tossed the towel onto the counter and backed away, toward the stairs

              “She at least deserves to know she has options.”

*

              Danny, Joey, Nicky, and Alex all drove in that afternoon. As they milled around in the backyard, waiting for everything to start, Stephanie chatted with Alex – clad in a sharp suit with a dark blue tie – about their fish taco truck. Apparently, he designed the logo himself, which everyone had seen earlier when they arrived. She was pretty sure he majored in graphic design in college.

              Stephanie caught sight of Alex’s mark – a puzzle piece which matched Nicky’s exactly. When she came home for Christmas the year they turned sixteen, she noticed that they’d left them uncovered. Not having made the connection, she’d asked, “You guys don’t cover your Soulmate Marks?”

              They’d chuckled, holding out their wrists so Stephanie could get a better look.

              “They match,” Nicky explained.

              “Thank _god_ ,” Alex added. “Now neither of us have to deal with any motherfucking soulmate drama – “

              Several chastising cries cut him off as the adults chided him for his language.

              “Sorry – _fucking_ drama,” he corrected to the confusion of those around him. “We don’t have to worry about that because we’ve got each other.”

              Stephanie was only mildly surprised. The boys had been glued to the hip since birth. It only made sense that they’d be soulmates.

              She studied his mark now, glowing a happy red, just like his mom’s.

              “Hey, Alex, can I ask you something?”

              Alex gave her a serious look. “No, you can’t get a ride in the taco truck. I know it’s tempting, but it’s a strict Katsapolis-only vehicle.”

              Stephanie shook her head. “No, no, it’s about your Soulmate Mark.”

              Alex turned up his wrist and smiled at the image. “Yeah, sure, what’s up?”

              She took a deep breath, nervous though she had no reason to be. “Are you ever… disappointed? That you don’t have a romantic soulmate?”

              He scrunched his brow. “Why would I be disappointed?”

              “Because,” Stephanie said. “Your parents are soulmates. A lot of couples are soulmates. You don’t – I don’t know – you don’t feel like you’re missing out on anything?”

              Alex shrugged. “I’m not missing out on anything. I get to spend every day with my brother. Sure, he listens to country music and has terrible taste in girls…” Catching Nicky’s eye from a few feet away, he nodded, and Nicky returned the nod. “… but at the end of the day, he’s my soulmate. My brother. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

              “You’re not worried about dating or marriage?”

              Waving a dismissive hand, he scoffed. “Most girls don’t care. They get it. And marriage is so far away that neither of us are really thinking about it. But I’m sure we’ll figure out a way to deal with it. We always do.”

              Stephanie smiled at his confidence. She could really use some of that right now. If Nicky and Alex were fine being platonic soulmates, surely she and Kimmy would be fine. After all, Kimmy and Fernando were engaged and in love. Who was Stephanie to intervene?

              _Her soulmate_ , a voice whispered from deep inside her.

              Just then, Fernando pulled her aside and handed her a white envelope decked out to the nines with red hearts and little drawings and Kimmy’s name spelled out in beautiful calligraphy.

              “Can you give this to Kimmy? I want her to read it before we walk down the aisle.”

              Turning the envelope over in her hands, Stephanie briefly thought about throwing it right in the trash. She met his gaze, full of happiness and love for his wife-slash-ex-wife-slash-fiancé, and knew she couldn’t do that to him.

              “Sure, Fernando.”

              She rushed up the stairs to DJ’s room, where DJ was touching up Kimmy’s makeup as the pair relaxed on the bed. Kimmy’s eyes brightened when she saw her.

              “Stephanie!”

              She opened her arms for a hug, and really, who was Steph to deny her?

              Stephanie leaned in, giving Kimmy a lackluster, one-armed hug, despite the other woman’s tenacious two-armed grip. When Stephanie pulled away, she held out the envelope to Kimmy.

              “Your uh…,” Stephanie searched for an insult, or even a singular word, to indicate Fernando, but in her current state, couldn’t think of anything funny. “Fernando,” she continued instead, “asked me to give you this.”

              Kimmy smiled up at her, clear blue eyes seeming to search Stephanie’s for… something. Stephanie wondered if Kimmy could sense something was up. After all, even though Kimmy didn’t know they were soulmates, maybe they had some sort of connection where Kimmy could tell something was wrong. Something beyond colors.

              Stephanie blinked and looked away. _She’s getting married_ , Stephanie reminded herself. _Now’s not the time to make this about you._

              “Thanks, Steph,” Kimmy said, taking the letter in her hands with extra care, trying not to disrupt the delicate outer decorations.

              “Of course,” Stephanie replied, watching Kimmy glance between her and the envelope. “I should, uh,” she pointed to the door. “I should get out there. You almost ready?”

              Kimmy nodded. “Yep. We’ll be down in a minute.”

              Stephanie turned and left, unable to watch Kimmy open a romantic letter from a fiancé that wasn’t her.

              Shortly thereafter, the ceremony began. Stephanie took her place behind the keyboard and played the beautiful opening numbers that Jesse and Becky had picked out. Joey had tried to get her to play hockey riffs, but this was Jesse and Becky’s ceremony, so she stuck to their wishes.

              The time came for her to play the song she’d written. An hour earlier, she struggled to play it correctly, even though a week ago she’d had it down pat. She hoped she’d be able to play it now.

“Must’ve been some angel /  
Can’t imagine any other way /  
Who brought our eyes together /   
Forever changed our hearts that day…”

              Kimmy and Becky emerged from the house, both dressed in white and beaming at their lovers waiting at the front. Stephanie could see nothing but love in Kimmy’s crystal blue eyes as they met with Fernando’s. Her cheeks flushed a perfect rouge, and her grin spread wide across her face. She was happy.

              Stephanie looked away – first at the crowd, which made her nervous, then at her hands, which made her even more nervous. Finally, she just focused on a spot above everyone’s heads, desperate to get through the song without any mess-ups.

              Luckily, the song wasn’t that long, and she made it to the end without any noticeable mistakes.

              And then Kimmy ran from the altar – _twice_.

              When DJ beckoned Stephanie to come with her, she felt her legs move on autopilot.

              “Kimmy, what is going on with you?” DJ asked, shutting the kitchen door.

              “I’m enjoying my cake,” Kimmy replied simply, digging into a spot she’d obviously started into on her first alter-flight. She passed them both forks. “Here, try some before it’s all gone.”

              Stephanie dug in – if Kimmy’d already started in on the cake, Stephanie saw no reason why she shouldn’t, too.

              DJ offered her thoughts. “Look, you know I have strong, negative feelings about Fernando. But I will put those aside and give you my unbiased opinion: Don’t marry Fernando.”

              “Ah, yes, sounds unbiased to me,” Stephanie retorted. DJ shot her a warning look, and she shut up.

              “What do you think, Steph?” Kimmy asked seriously, turning to her with wide, searching eyes.

              Stephanie shifted, caught in her hypocrisy since her desire to scream ‘ _don’t marry him!’_ at the top of her lungs certainly did _not_ come from an unbiased place.

              She tried to decide what to do. She could take off her bracelet right now – that would definitely give Kimmy some pause. She imagined the fallout: Kimmy seeing Stephanie’s mark, then running outside to announce to everyone that they’re soulmates. The focus would shift from Jesse and Becky’s 25 years to Stephanie and Kimmy’s soulmate status, and that was _too much pressure_. There would be _expectations_. Stephanie didn’t know what those would be, but she knew people would have questions, and Stephanie couldn’t answer her own, let alone everyone else’s. The thought of jumping into something – lifelong friendship or something more – so quickly, so publicly, terrified her. Plus, she couldn’t do that to Jesse and Becky – they deserved this ceremony.

              Besides, what if Kimmy saw Stephanie’s mark and decided they were meant to be best friends and, as a result, ran right back out there to marry Fernando on the spot? Stephanie didn’t want that, either.

              But she knew this was what was holding Kimmy back. The soulmate thing. And maybe it was selfish, but Stephanie didn’t want Kimmy to get married. Not right now.

              DJ seemed to sense this, too.

              “This is about your soulmate, isn’t it?”

              Kimmy swallowed a piece of cake. “No it’s not.”

              Instead of countering DJ, Stephanie decided to press further. “You made a pretty big deal about it last night.”

              Kimmy ducked her head, busying herself with another forkful of cake.

              DJ put an arm on her shoulder. “Are you worried about missing your chance with your soulmate?”

              Kimmy slowed her eating, eyes drifting to the corsage on her left wrist, its wide, white ribbon hiding the tattoo underneath. She brought her other hand to the ribbon, playing with the tail in hesitation before gently tugging at it.

              The corsage fell from her wrist, and Stephanie found herself face-to-face once again with her matching Soulmate Mark, though this time the lines had taken on a dark blue hue.

              Sadness.

              Stephanie felt DJ’s eyes on her, but instead she chose to point at the mark and murmur. “What do you think blue means?”

              Kimmy scoffed. “I know as much about the colors as I do about my soulmate.”

              And dammit, Stephanie wanted to show her. She wanted to end this freaking madness – the sad look in Kimmy’s eyes, the tension both here and in the backyard, and Stephanie’s own inner turmoil – but she knew that the timing, right now, was terrible.

              She and DJ locked eyes. DJ’s gaze felt harsh, expectant. Like DJ expected her to just reveal her mark here and now. Stephanie shot her a pleading look, silently begging her sister to drop it or change the subject or do _something_ besides set her up for a reveal that just couldn’t happen.

              To her surprise – and relief – DJ gave a small nod, unnoticed by Kimmy as she dug into the cake for another bite.

              “Kimmy,” DJ started, taking her free hand. “I think that, if your soulmate means that much to you, that you’re stopping your wedding because of them, then… maybe you shouldn’t get married. Maybe you should go looking for your soulmate – you know, take up a more active search to find them.”

              “But what about Fernando?”

              Stephanie suddenly found her voice. “What about him? He has his own soulmate.”

              Kimmy shook her head. “No, he doesn’t.”

              DJ and Stephanie sank into the chairs on either side of her, speechless.

              “What?”

              “What do you mean?”

              Running a finger along the lines of her mark, Kimmy elaborated. “His mark was faded when I met him.”

              Stephanie felt white hot guilt settle into her stomach. If she asked Kimmy to leave Fernando now, it would be as if she were asking Vicky to leave Dad.

              Kimmy sighed. “I don’t want to just leave him.”

              “He’d understand though,” DJ said. “Wouldn’t he?”

              Tilting her head, Kimmy directed her next question at DJ. “Would you understand if both Matt _and_ Steve decided to leave you for their own soulmates?”

              The question cut deep. DJ sat back in her chair without answering, turning her wrist over to examine her faded beagle mark.

              “Kimmy, mi amor,” a voice spoke quietly. They turned to find Fernando slipping through the back door. “Are you okay?”

              Kimmy stood to meet him, kissing him gently and taking his hands, a striking dissonance from their usual red-hot affection.

              “No, I’m not.”

              He looked down at their joined hands. Upon sight of Kimmy’s exposed wrist, he turned their hands over so he could view the mark better.

              “It is about your soulmate,” he said calmly, as if he’d expected this. Stephanie didn’t know how to react to this serious side of Fernando.

              Kimmy nodded, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can marry you without meeting my soulmate first.”

              And dammit. This was _Stephanie’s_ fault. Kimmy was doing this _because of Stephanie_. Hurting Fernando, ruining her own wedding, because Stephanie couldn’t find the courage to say something.

              “But what about us? Te quiero mucho, mi Kimberlina.”

              “I love you, too. And I want to stay engaged, but... I need some space.”

              Fernando squinted in confusion. “So… you want to be engaged… but you want a separation?”

              “We’ve only been engaged for a couple of days. Maybe it’s better if we let it stay this way, just for a while.” Kimmy hesitated. “Just until I meet my soulmate.”

              Fernando sighed. He clearly did not want to separate, didn’t want to give her space, but his love for her shone through, and guilt fizzled in Stephanie’s stomach. He brought her hand up and kissed her knuckles. “I understand, and I love you.”

              After a few more minutes, Stephanie and DJ returned to the backyard. DJ stepped in front of the crowd.

              “I’m sorry to keep you all waiting, but Kimmy and Fernando have decided not to get married today.”

              Jesse grumbled behind her. “They hijack our vow renewal, only to pull this stunt?” he questioned, eyeing the kitchen door with annoyance.

              “They’re still engaged,” DJ continued, as if she hadn’t heard him, “but want to take their relationship just a little slower. For now, let’s celebrate Uncle Jesse and Aunt Becky and their 25 years of marriage.”

              The family applauded, and the ceremony continued. There wasn’t much left after the vows. Everyone moved inside for dessert (“Whaaaat?” Jessie cried, “What happened to the cake?”) and dancing. Luckily, since she volunteered to spin, Stephanie could get lost in the music for most of the night.

              And yeah, Stephanie could tell Kimmy. She could tell her right now, stop Kimmy from going down this dead-end search, and carve her status as Kimmy’s Best Friend Forever into stone.

              But part of Stephanie didn’t want friendship. She wanted more. But the prospect of a relationship – especially one with this much at stake – terrified her. Stephanie never said I love you. She never made it past six months.

              Besides, there was no guarantee that Kimmy would want Stephanie in the first place.

              Not to mention that Stephanie felt guilty and embarrassed about the whole thing. What was she supposed to say? ‘ _Hey, Kimmy, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything last night even though I had plenty of opportunities to, but yeah, I’m your soulmate.’_

              No, that conversation would not go well. And then Kimmy would be mad at her and then she’d have even _less_ of a chance of making things work with her soulmate.

              So, before Kimmy and Fernando got back from their “Honeymoon, Part II” as they called it, she flew away to London for the summer to catch up with friends, party, and ignore her feelings.


	6. the annual end-of-summer back-to-school super fun barbecue

              Despite the fact that Stephanie had flown to London to _avoid_ the whole soulmate situation, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

              She often found herself wondering, at any particular moment – whether she was eating lunch or partying in the club or just about to go to sleep – what Kimmy was up to on the other side of the world. Wondering what Kimmy thought about her mysterious, absent soulmate. Wondering if Kimmy would be mad at her for keeping this knowledge a secret. Wondering if Kimmy really _was_ doubling down on her soulmate search, or if she was content to just stay engaged to Fernando, not being forced to commit on any front. She wondered if Kimmy was having second thoughts, not about her soulmate, but about Fernando. What if Kimmy actually just wanted to back out of marrying a man who’d cheated on her?

              Stephanie shook her head. No sense in getting her hopes up.

              As for Stephanie, she was wildly confused about the whole thing. She was still trying to sort out her feelings. Would she really be happy as Kimmy’s designated-by-fate, Best Friend Forever?

              No. She didn’t have to think hard about that.

              But would Kimmy really want _Stephanie_ as a partner? Sure, Stephanie figured Kimmy would be ecstatic about her soulmate being familiar, someone as close to her as Stephanie, but who said Kimmy had to leave Fernando at all? Would Kimmy even _consider_ it?

              Every once in a while, Stephanie’s mark danced with a rainbow of colors. It was… strange, now, knowing that the colors were tied to _Kimmy’s_ happiness, that when Stephanie’s mark pulsed with brilliant, colorful hues, Kimmy was on the other side of the ocean, somewhere back in California, feeling happy about… something. Probably Fernando, Stephanie often mused with a sinking stomach.

              A handful of times, the jasmine turned orange, and she wondered what Kimmy was angry about. Was she having a fight with Ramona? Had a customer just made her frustrated? Or was she still mad at her soulmate – unknowingly, at Stephanie?

              And then, there were a few times when her mark turned magenta. When it did this, Stephanie traced the lines delicately, both wishing she could be there to help Kimmy feel better, to mend whatever pain the woman was feeling, but also wanting to stay away, wondering if she’d just make it worse.

              She had to fight the urge to text DJ and ask. While DJ couldn’t see the colors, she’d definitely be able to tell Stephanie what was bothering Kimmy. Stephanie didn’t know whether knowing would make it better or worse. And of course, involving DJ was _not_ something Stephanie wanted to do here.

              Not for lack of DJ trying. Her sister had texted almost every other day for eight weeks, sometimes asking innocent questions about how Stephanie’s trip was going, and other times prodding her with too many questions about Kimmy.

              _How’s your trip?_

_I saw your Snap story. Paris! That’s incredible!_

_Fernando left today for his racing tour._

_Hey, how’s London? Do any sightseeing recently?_

_Kimmy hasn’t been wearing her wristband. Thought you should know._

_Do you know when you might tell Kimmy about you-know-what?_

              Sometimes, Stephanie would reply. She’s not a monster, and DJ _was_ her sister, the person who was keeping Stephanie’s bed clean and ready for when she returned. So she answered the touristy questions, the just-checking-in questions, the ouch-that-jellyfish-sting-looked-like-it-really-hurt questions, but she absolutely refused to answer anything Kimmy-related.

              At least DJ didn’t pressure a response. If Stephanie was responding to her other texts, DJ had to know that her soulmate texts were being received.

              Kimmy snapchatted her every now and then. Apparently she tagged along for Ramona’s dance camp. So many photos of dance rehearsals squeezed between ordinary camping activities and, once, a snap of Kimmy standing in a full-length bathroom mirror, showing off her blue leggings and purple camp T-shirt.

              Stephanie had saved a lot of Kimmy’s snaps over the past year. They were often too weird or hilarious _not_ to screenshot (like the one where Kimmy had covered herself in peanut butter for a Gibbler-Style party, or one from camp that showed Kimmy fleeing from a raccoon).

              So Kimmy probably wouldn’t notice or care that Stephanie saved that last snap.

              Stephanie replied with snaps of her own – usually just a shot of whatever she was doing, occasionally a teasing comment (what the heck did you do to piss off a raccoon?). For all intents and purposes, it was business as usual.

              Even despite their newest development – a twelve-day snap streak.

*

              On the flight home, Stephanie promised herself that, by the end of the week, she would tell Kimmy the truth. She owed her soulmate at least that much.

              Most likely scenario – the Soulmate Mark would just be a best-friends sort of thing. She tried not to let herself imagine what it would be like if Kimmy _did_ feel the same way. After all, Kimmy was DJ’s best friend, not hers. And she couldn’t possibly put Kimmy in a scenario where she had to pick between Stephanie and Fernando – those things never ended well, and Stephanie couldn’t bear to make Kimmy resent her for it.

              She tried to quiet the voice in her head that kept reminding her that _Kimmy’s bi, so it’s not like there’s zero chance._

              After retrieving her luggage from baggage claim, she circled the lobby, searching for a familiar face. DJ never said who’d be picking her up, so she wasn’t sure who to look for.

              Then, she spotted a familiar head of blonde hair.

              Was that…? No, it couldn’t be…

              “Michelle?”

              Stephanie pushed her way through a throng of people and, upon closer inspection, realized that it _was indeed_ her younger sister.

              “Michelle!”

              The blonde glanced up on hearing her name, and after a moment, located Stephanie in the crowd and smiled. Stephanie waved, and, as she walked closer, realized Michelle wasn’t alone.

              Jackson and Ramona stood next to her, Michelle talking to them and pointing out Stephanie in the crowd.

              Finally, she reached them, abandoning her luggage to throw both arms around her sister.

              “Hey! I didn’t know you were flying in.”

              “Yeah, apparently DJ likes surprises and coordinating schedules. She told me to look for Jackson and Ramona, who told me that we were waiting for you.”

              “Sounds like DJ,” Stephanie replied, unsurprised that her sister had meddled once again. She hugged Jackson and Ramona as she asked, “How are we getting home?”

              “Mom’s in the car,” Ramona supplied. “I’ll text her and tell her we’re coming out now.”

              Stephanie’s heart leapt at the thought of her soulmate. What would Kimmy say when she told her?

              The troupe headed outside and waited for Kimmy to pull up in her orange SUV. The woman brought the car to the curb, waving excitedly at the new arrivals as they made their way to the trunk. Stowing Michelle and Stephanie’s luggage in the back, they piled into the car with Stephanie, Jackson, and Ramona in the backseat and Michelle taking the passenger seat.

              “Oh, Michelle, it’s so good to see you!” Kimmy exclaimed as she drove off, squeezing Michelle’s arm in greeting.

              Stephanie noticed that Kimmy’s hair had gotten longer, and that it seemed to be lighter, probably from exposure to the sun over the summer. As Kimmy turned the wheel, Stephanie also noticed the jasmine mark on her left arm, fully uncovered. Meaning Kimmy was still actively looking.

              But this wasn’t the time or place for that conversation, and besides, Stephanie needed time to gather her courage.

              “What am I, chopped liver?” Stephanie sassed instead, and _no_ , that was totally _not_ a dig for attention.

              Kimmy rolled her eyes and found her in the rearview mirror. “Of course I missed you, too, Steph. It’s just that we haven’t seen Michelle in so long! I almost forgot what she looked like.”

              Propping an arm up on the window ledge, Michelle scoffed. “You did _not_. We’re Facebook friends.”

              Kimmy furrowed her brow. “No, we’re not.”

              “Oh, that’s right,” Michelle said. “I blocked you.”

              “Hey!”

              “So Michelle,” Stephanie cut in, steering the conversation away from its current direction. “What are you doing here? You’re not busy with your big fashion empire?”

              Michelle shrugged. “I’m taking a month off. Thought I’d come home and see everyone.”

              “Really. You just… took the month off. Can you even do that?”

              “I work with talented people. They can cover for me until I get back.”

              “Hey, Michelle,” Ramona said, leaning forward. “Is it true you really met Michael Simon?”

              “Yep, I did. Kind of an asshole, though, I – ”

              “Hey!” Kimmy and Stephanie scolded in unison. “Language!”

              Turning to glance at the back row, Michelle chuckled. “They’re, what, twelve?”

              “Thirteen,” Jackson corrected.

              “They’re thirteen,” Michelle continued. “I’m sure they already hear this shit at school. It’s not like I’m teaching them anything new.”

              Kimmy gasped, but Stephanie thought better of it. They weren’t _her_ kids, and Michelle had a point.

              “I forgot how cool you are, Aunt Michelle.”

              “Yeah, and I’ve only met you, like, once, but I think you’re cool, too.”

              “Oh! Don’t let me forget, I have surprises for you guys when we get home.”

              For the rest of the drive, Jackson and Ramona buzzed excitedly about their summers – Ramona’s time at Dance Camp and Jackson’s adventures at Wilderness Camp. Every once in a while, Stephanie noticed Jackson’s voice crack a little – a sure sign that puberty was underway.

              She tried not to sneak glances at the woman in the driver’s seat, especially not at Kimmy’s mark. The jasmine etched there only made her nerves worse.

*

              DJ was beside herself when Michelle walked through the door.

              “Oh Mylanta! _Michelle_! It’s so good to see you,” she greeted, crushing Michelle immediately in a long, tight hug.

              As the women and kids piled into the kitchen, everyone started recounting their summers. Kimmy admitted to following Ramona to Dance Camp and staying there for most of the program.

              “We had the whole camp doing the Gibbler Gallop.” Kimmy shook Ramona’s shoulder a little in excitement and urged, “Let’s do it now!”

              And just like that, Ramona and Kimmy were doing the Gibbler Gallop right there in the kitchen.

              “A five, six, seven, eight! And sparkle, and sparkle...”

              DJ and Stephanie watched in amusement, while Michelle’s brow furrowed in confusion as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing.

              “And spin! And spin! And spank, spank, spank, spank!”

              Michelle leaned over to Stephanie and murmured, “Uh… are they okay?”

              Stephanie put out a hand. “Don’t worry, this is normal.”

              “You guys have a _weird_ definition of normal.”

              “Says the girl who bought a _donkey_ with her lemonade money.”

              Michelle chuckled at the memory. “In my defense, buying Shorty was Kimmy-induced.”

              “Oh yeah,” Stephanie recalled. She shrugged. “Well, in any case, when the Gibblers live in your house, you have to make a little room for the weirdness.”

              “Aunt Steph!” a tiny voice called. Max’s footsteps rumbled down the staircase as he ran to hug Stephanie.

              “Hey, bud! How was your summer?”

              “It was _boring_ ,” he lamented. He hugged Kimmy, Jackson, and even Ramona before turning his attention to the unusual, extra presence in the room. “And you’re… Aunt Michelle?”

              Michelle nodded, squatting down to the boy’s level. “Yep. I’m gonna stay with you for a few weeks. Is that okay?”

              Max shrugged, indifferent. “The more people to drive me around, the better.”

              As she straightened up, Stephanie prompted, “So, tell us about what you’ve been up to.”

              “Oh! That reminds me – I’ll be right back.” Michelle disappeared to the living room and, a moment later, emerged with a clothing bag that, Stephanie guessed, had been packed away in her suitcase.

              “I brought you guys something!”

              First, she pulled out a sleek, black leather jacket. “Jackson, a new jacket to impress… whoever it is you’re trying to impress.”

              Jackson’s jaw dropped at the sight of the new leather. “Wow! This is so cool. Thanks, Aunt Michelle.”

              She jostled his shoulder. “You’re welcome, kid.” Pulling out the next item, she called over her middle nephew. “Max!”

              He approached her, his eight-year-old eyes wide and shining with excitement. “What is it? I know a unicorn won’t fit in the bag.”

              Michelle chuckled. “No, but it _is_ something I think you’ll like.” She pulled out a shiny button-up shirt, covered partially by a sweater vest. At DJ’s hesitant look at the fancy fabrics, Michelle reassured, “They’re machine-washable.”

              “Holy chalupas! I love them!” He slammed into her side for a hug. “Thanks, Aunt Michelle.”

              “You’re welcome.” She ruffled his hair as she searched the room for someone else. Her eyes fell on Ramona, who seemed to be watching the scene with some jealousy. “Ramona?”

              The girl’s brown eyes lit up, but, too hesitant to believe it, she stayed put at her mother’s side.

              “C’mere. DJ told me you live here, too, which _basically_ makes you a Tanner anyways.” From her bag, she pulled out a beautiful purple dress, with a halter top and sparkles that shone from the skirt.

              Ramona gasped as she made her way over. “Really? You got me something, too?”

              “Yeah, of course. Fresh from my new line.”

              The girl’s hands shook as she took the dress into her own arms. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful. Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She dove in for a hug as well, and Michelle squeezed her tightly.

              Stephanie stepped up after Ramona moved away. “Uh, anything for me in that bag, Mary Poppins?”

              Michelle laughed. “Sorry, Steph. I only brought for the kids.”

              As the kids started to filter out of the room to put their clothes and luggage away, DJ called everyone’s attention. “Don’t forget that this afternoon, we’re having our annual End-of-Summer Back-to-School Super Fun Barbecue!”

              Making groans of acknowledgement, the kids disappeared, leaving just the four adults.

              Stephanie took a deep breath to calm her nerves, deciding that she might as well get this over with. Now would be as good a time as any.

              “Hey, Kimmy, can I talk to you for a minute?”

              “Of course, _sister-wife_ ,” Kimmy chimed as she walked over to her, and _oh god, this is gonna be a_ thing _, isn’t it?_ Stephanie pictured a future in which Kimmy constantly referred to her as _soulmate_ in that exact tone of voice, that same degree of overly excited affection, and _good grief_ , did she really want to go down this road?

              Ironically enough, she didn’t get to find out. Just as they’d made it to the far corner of the kitchen, headed for the living room, the back door opened.

              “Kimberlina, your Fernando has returned!”

              Immediately, Kimmy whirled around and rushed to meet her fiancé.

              “Oh, Fernando, I missed you!”

              And _oh god_ , suddenly they were making out in the middle of the kitchen.

              Michelle grimaced. “Get a room.”

              The doorbell rang, interrupting Kimmy and Fernando’s kissing session. DJ, Stephanie, and Kimmy rushed to meet their guests, calling, “It’s always open!” much to Michelle’s horror.

              “Uh, come again? Did you say the door is _always_ _open_?” She shook her head in disbelief as she followed them into the living room. “Okay, wow, you guys _know_ you’re gonna get robbed, right?”

              None of the women got a chance to respond, however, as Matt and Steve strode through the door carrying four bulging coolers.

              “Hello, ladies,” Steve greeted.

              Matt grinned as they held up their bags. “Your meat has arrived.”

              Stephanie brought up a finger to joke, “Ah, now that’s how every man should enter a room.”

              Kimmy chuckled, Michelle snorted, and DJ’s scolding look was counteracted by an amused smile.

              “Oh, so I brought steak, burgers, chicken, shrimp, ribs, and lobster,” Steve rattled off. “And, uh, Matt brought some stuff for you guys to eat.”

              Both men burst into laughter as they descended the landing steps and headed for the kitchen, complimenting each other on the joke they’d apparently come up with together.

              “It’s so funny how those guys became best friends,” Kimmy commented once they’d left.

              “I know,” DJ replied. “I hope it doesn’t affect their friendship when I tell them which one I wanna date.”

              Kimmy and Stephanie’s eyes widened at the news.

              “You’re finally choosing somebody?” Stephanie exclaimed. “Oh, it’s about time!”

              “Can somebody tell me what you guys are talking about?” Michelle interjected.

              The other three gave her a quick run-down of DJ’s romantic life and current situation, with Kimmy and Stephanie slipping in their preferences for Steve and Matt, respectively.

              Just as DJ began to tell them, Matt burst back into the room.

              “DJ,” he started as Steve followed him through the door. “We have something to tell you.”

              “Oh, and I have something to tell you guys.”

              At once, all three broke into a courteous chorus of:

              “Okay, you go.”

              “No, you go first.”

              Some commotion ensued as the three went back and forth until finally, Michelle interrupted with a, “ _Somebody_ go first!”

              “Okay,” Matt replied, “we will go first.” Realizing who’d spoken, he eyed the unfamiliar woman who’d yelled at him, directing his confusion to DJ. “Who is this?”

              “Oh, that’s my sister, Michelle,” DJ filled in, leaving no room for Michelle to speak for herself. “Go ahead and tell us your news.”

              “Okay,” Matt replied. He wrapped an arm around Steve and pulled the man close. “So after you chose yourself, Steve and I went on a two-week camping trip alone in the woods.”

              Stephanie’s eyes widened as she realized where this was going.

              “Yeah, and while we were there,” Steve continued, taking Matt’s left hand with his own left hand and holding out their arms, wrists up, for the women to see, “we realized our Soulmate Marks matched.”

              Stephanie leaned in with the others to look. There, etched onto each man’s wrist, was a tiny oak tree with sprawling, intricate branches. Both marks changed color before their eyes – Matt’s a forest green and Steve’s a brilliant orange.

              “We’re soulmates!” Matt exclaimed.

              No one moved, everyone looking to DJ and waiting for a reaction.

              She brought a hand to her chest and mumbled, “Oh Mylanta.” Glancing between the men, she asked, “So – so what does this mean?”

              “It means,” Matt said, bringing their folded hands to their sides without letting go, “that Steve and I are dating.”

              Stephanie tried to hide her smirk.

              DJ smiled – the one with all her teeth that was clearly fake – and congratulated them.

              As the men disappeared into the kitchen, hand in hand, to start cooking the meat, Kimmy and Stephanie rushed to DJ’s side to comfort her. She feigned happiness, though, insisting she was “happy, happy, happy, okay?” as she ascended the living room steps to check on a napping Tommy.

              Stephanie looked at Kimmy. “Did you buy that?”

              “Nope. That poor thing is a Lifetime movie waiting to happen.”

              The pair moved toward the kitchen, but Michelle caught Kimmy’s arm, stopping them both in their tracks.

              She let go of Kimmy and pointed a black-painted nail at the jasmine on her wrist. “Speaking of soulmates, I see your mark is uncovered. Can I ask about it?”

              “Sure,” Kimmy replied, holding up her wrist for the other women to see. “This spring, Fernando and I were about to get remarried, but as I walked up the aisle all those times…” – Michelle shot a questioning look at Stephanie, who simply shrugged – “I realized I couldn’t do it again without finding my soulmate first.”

              Kimmy glanced up at Stephanie, whose insides immediately turned to jelly. Had her smile always been that beautiful?

              “DJ and Stephanie convinced me to leave it uncovered and go search for them.”

              Stephanie shifted, forcing a smile. “Yeah, we, uh, we didn’t want you to get married if you had doubts.”

              Glancing at Stephanie, Michelle grazed an index finger over Kimmy’s mark and asked, “Any luck?”

              Kimmy shrugged, wringing her lips together. “Not yet. But I’m sure they’re out there, and I’m not giving up.”

              “That’s good,” Stephanie replied, before realizing what it sounded like and turning into a stuttering mess. “I mean – not _good_ that you haven’t found them – _good_ like, it’s good you’re not giving up.”

              Michelle squinted at Stephanie, so fast she would’ve missed it if she blinked. Stephanie caught the look and tried not to dwell on whatever it was Michelle was thinking.

              Kimmy, however, missed the exchange and kept going. “Yeah. I’ve joined all the soulmate apps, I’ve been going out more… maybe I should put it on a billboard! That will give it visibility!”

              “Uh, no,” Michelle vetoed.

              “You do not need a _billboard_ ,” Stephanie replied. She figured Kimmy would’ve been signing up for apps and leaving her mark uncovered, but _this_? “Don’t you think that’s a little much?”

              “No, the increased visibility will make sure everyone in San Francisco sees it!” Kimmy’s eyes drifted to a spot on the far wall as she fantasized about her billboard. “Unless my soulmate lives somewhere else… maybe I should translate it into Dutch…”

              “Uh… I’m gonna take a stab at it and say your soulmate _doesn’t_ live in the Netherlands,” Michelle replied. “Scientists say that your soulmate probably lives in the same city – or at least the same state – as you. Right, Steph?”

              “Yeah,” Stephanie replied, trying to tamp down on her nerves, “Your soulmate’s probably closer than you think.”

              Kimmy tilted her head, acknowledging their points. “At least I know I’m doing everything I can. Now, it’s up to them.” She started for the kitchen, but stopped and turned near the door. “Also, DJ says you two are rooming together, so all of Michelle’s luggage can go downstairs.”

              “Thanks, Kimmy.”

              As Kimmy disappeared into the kitchen, Stephanie turned to find Michelle watching her with crossed arms and a thoughtful look.

              “What?”

              Michelle shrugged and wordlessly crossed to her suitcase, which lay open on the couch, to close it back up and follow Kimmy through the door.

*

              During the barbecue, Steve and Matt surprised everyone by being the cutest couple anyone’s ever seen, holding hands and gushing about each other and sneaking in a kiss or two when DJ wasn’t looking.

              As for DJ, when she wasn’t micro-managing every aspect of the barbeque, she was sidling up to Stephanie mid-conversation or following her across the party, clearly trying to get her alone so they could talk about Kimmy. Stephanie didn’t have the energy for that trainwreck – not after a ten hour flight and a nerve-wracking almost-confession that came crashing down the moment Fernando showed up – so she avoided DJ as much as possible. In fact, she hung back from everyone, watching Kimmy interact with Fernando.

              Kimmy seemed relaxed, almost… _lighter_ without her mark covered, as if leaving her wrist exposed somehow gave her a new freedom that she hadn’t had before. The pair were just as affectionate as they’d been in the month or so before their engagement, which confused Stephanie since Kimmy had decided to search for her soulmate… right?

              She didn’t know when she’d get the chance to tell Kimmy, but it wouldn’t be today. That much, she’d decided, after Fernando had barged in and made clear that he and Kimmy were still as passionate for each other as ever.

              Stephanie tried not to stare too much. She didn’t want anyone – least of all, _Kimmy_ – to notice. How was Stephanie supposed to explain that? Just whip out her mark in front of everyone?

              Except she must not have been subtle enough, because that night in the basement, as Stephanie and Michelle were getting ready for bed, Michelle decided to comment on what she’d observed.

              “So what’s with all the heart eyes you’ve been giving Gibbler?” Michelle asked, pointing a finger down her throat to fake a gag.

              “What?” Stephanie denied. She tried to play dumb. “Pfft, no. What are you talking about?”

              “I’m talking about the way you react when she leaves the room, like Comet after we’d tell him, _no more people food_. Or when she comes back into the room, and it’s like you’ve handed Max an encyclopedia.”

              Stephanie forced a chuckle. She didn’t really _do_ that, did she? She couldn’t really be _that_ transparent. She pulled a shirt over her head and watched Michelle toss her ripped black jeans onto the suitcase. Michelle was _not_ going to be in on this, not with DJ already hounding on her like she was. “Me? Like Kimmy? Ha, good one.”

              “Hey, it’s okay.” Michelle tugged on a pair of shorts, then reached for Stephanie’s hand and squeezed comfortingly. “I’m gay, too. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

              Uh, _what?_

              “Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up a second.” Stephanie dropped Michelle’s hand and pointed at her, suddenly having way too many things to address at once. “Okay, first of all, I’m not embarrassed, because there’s no crush to be embarrassed about. And _second_ …” Stephanie shook her head, trying to process the news. “You’re gay?”

              Michelle blinked back at her. “Yeah, that’s what I just said.”

              “Holy shit,” Stephanie marveled. Realizing that she hadn’t shown any sort of _positive_ reaction yet, she opened her arms for a hug. “Holy shit, Michelle, I love you.”

              Michelle hugged her back. “I love you, too, Steph.”

              They pulled apart and sank down to sit at the foot of the bed.

              “How long have you known?”

              “Around senior year of high school.”

              Stephanie nodded. “I wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

              “Well, you were already in London, and then I was in New York. Our timing was off. And hey, it’s not like you told me you were into girls, either.”

              Shrugging, Stephanie said, “That’s fair. And also, just so you know – I’m bi, not gay.”

              Michelle nodded at the information.

              “Still,” Stephanie continued. “I can’t believe I didn’t know this.”

              “Me either.” Michelle bumped Stephanie’s shoulder with hers and smiled mischievously. “So, Kimmy Gibbler, huh?”

              Stephanie squinted her eyes at Michelle, trying to figure out her angle and coming to the conclusion that their other sister just couldn’t keep her mouth shut any longer.

              “Did DJ tell you?”

              “Tell me what?”

              Oops.

              Michelle blinked at her with unknowing, expectant eyes.

              Stephanie sighed, studying her sister. Honestly, she’d been dying to talk about this with someone who _wasn’t_ going to make it her life’s mission to meddle in her business. Michelle would probably be the only sane person Stephanie could have this conversation with. She’d be here for, what, a few weeks? She wouldn’t even have to keep the secret for long, especially if Stephanie told Kimmy before then.

              And besides, Stephanie had already gotten herself this far in the conversation by accident. Might as well tell her.

              “Can you keep a secret?”

              “Of course.”

              Stephanie glanced at the closed door, wary of the rest of the family moving about the house above them. Then, she touched the band around her wrist, glanced at Michelle one more time, and then pulled the cover off.

              Michelle leaned forward, examining the mark.

              “It’s so pretty.” She grazed the petals with her thumb, recognition flooding her face. “It’s just like – ”

              “Kimmy’s. Yeah.”

              Michelle’s brow furrowed.

              “Why haven’t you told her yet? She’s been pulling out all the stops trying to find her soulmate when you’re literally right downstairs.”

              “Yeah, I know. I’ve been trying, but I’m just…”

              “Chicken?”

              Stephanie gave her a shove.

              “I’m just worried. She’s with Fernando. I don’t wanna mess with that.”

              Michelle tilted her head in thought. “So? Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. You don’t have to mess with that at all if you don’t want to.”

              She seemed to hear herself speak, and, at Stephanie’s crestfallen face, changed course. “Except you like her.”

              Stephanie sighed, nodding to herself as she replied, “Yeah. I do. Which is why I can’t risk anything by telling her. What if – what if she doesn’t like me back, you know? Then I’ll have to watch her get married to Fernando and… and I don’t think I can do that again.” Singing for Kimmy’s almost-wedding was confusing and difficult at best – she didn’t think she could watch now that she’d processed the fact that she had full-blown _feelings_ for the woman.

              “And then, what if she _does_ like me?” Stephanie continued, standing to pace. “Then what, is she just supposed to leave Fernando? I don’t wanna hurt him or make Kimmy choose between us. She’s happy with him – I don’t wanna ruin what they have.”

              Standing to meet her mid-stride, Michelle put a calming hand on Stephanie’s shoulder. “Slow down, Steph. You’re making this way too complicated.” She ran her hand up and down Stephanie’s arm, trying to soothe her. “You said she’s happy with him. And you could be right. But what if she’s happier with you?”

              A fuzzy image of Kimmy smiling at her, leaning in for a kiss, crossed her mind. Michelle had no idea how much Stephanie wanted this.

 _Believe me_ , she wanted to say, _I’ve been asking myself that question for months_.

              Another thought, a familiar, darker thought, resurfaced, and Stephanie let her doubts be heard.

              “But what if she’s not?” Soulmates didn’t have to end up together. They could break up. They could choose different people. What if Kimmy didn’t want her – didn’t _choose_ her? Stephanie couldn’t face that kind of heartbreak. “I don’t wanna risk that.”

              Michelle gently squeezed her arm. “Listen, either way – you’re soulmates. She has a right to know.”

              Stephanie sighed. Michelle was right, not that she wanted to admit it. “Yeah, I know.”

              She broke away, climbed into her side of the bed, and checked her phone, which she’d already plugged in to charge.

              “Hey,” Michelle started as she climbed into her own side. “So I wanna tell you something.”

              Stephanie, about to lay down, instead settled into an upright position and leaned back against the pillows. “What’s up?”

              Michelle, mirroring her position, glanced down at her hands, which were playing with the fabric of the black bandana she’d wrapped around her wrist. She smiled secretively as she admitted, “I didn’t come home just to hang out with family.”

              Stephanie smirked. “I knew we weren’t cool enough for you.”

              “No,” Michelle laughed. “That’s not it. I love you guys, I just… I came home for something else, too.” She took a deep breath. “I want to find my soulmate.”

              Stephanie raised her brow. “Really? You think you’ll find them here?”

              Michelle shrugged. “I don’t know, I just figured this would be the best place to start.” She put her left arm on her lap between them and untied the bandana. “Do you know anyone with a similar mark? Even if it’s not exact – anything is better than nothing.”

              Stephanie leaned in to examine Michelle’s mark, surprised to find a familiar black lightning bolt staring back at her.

              “Yeah, actually, I do know someone with that mark.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah. I think DJ’s having a game night this week. I’ll invite her.”

              “So it’s a her?”

              “Yep.”

              “Thank god,” Michelle breathed. “Hey, can you not tell her? I mean, my soulmate? I don’t wanna get _both_ our hopes up if it’s not a match.”

              “Sure, of course.”

              As they both slipped further under the covers to lay down, Michelle replied, “Thanks, Steph.”

              “Good night, Michelle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao. This is what happens when you have a final exam for your summer class and then move apartments in the span of a few weeks. But we're back with a new chapter, and I'm so excited to bring Michelle into the mix!
> 
> Also, is anybody else absolutely l i v i n g for Andrea's YouTube vlogs? If you are, please drop into my tumblr inbox (@nakedbluenailpolish) and chat with me cause I feel all alone in my enjoyment of them lol.
> 
> Note: Michael Simon is a fictional name and a fictional person. I made him up completely, and if there are any fashion designers named Michael Simon out there.... I'm sorry lol
> 
> Anyways, hopefully the next upload won't be *quite* as long a wait as the last one. Enjoy your day :)


	7. games

            Stephanie waited until the last minute to tell DJ about Gia because, well, of course she’d freak out.

            “Oh, Deej, by the way,” Stephanie started as she dragged an extra chair closer to the couch. “I invited Gia to game night.”

            DJ nearly dropped the bowl of popcorn she was holding.

            “You _what_?”

            “Oh, come on, we haven’t seen her in _years_. We’re due for a reunion.”

            Setting the popcorn on the coffee table, DJ advanced on Stephanie. “But she was such a bad influence on you! She tried to get you to try cigarettes, and she took you to a make-out party…”

            “Relax Deej, she’s a total soccer mom now. She drives a minivan and walks for nine different diseases. It’ll be fine.”

            Eyeing her disbelievingly, DJ opened her mouth to speak but got cut off by the doorbell.

            She and Stephanie called together, “It’s always open!”

            Matt and Steve slipped into the room, hand in hand, one carrying a reusable grocery bag of snacks and the other a pack of La Croix.

            “Hey, guys,” Steve greeted.

            Matt held up the grocery bag. “We brought snacks!”

            “Oooh, I’ll take those, _thank you_ ,” Stephanie declared, taking the bag from him and rummaging through it. She pulled out a bag of cheese puffs and instantly dove in, tossing the rest onto the couch.

            DJ eyed their joined hands, and Stephanie knew she had to be wondering what might have happened if she’d actually picked someone at the vow renewal. Maybe Stephanie should have said something earlier…

            No. Definitely not.

            Suddenly seeming to snap out of it, DJ gestured to the circle of chairs she’d set up. “Come in, sit down. I’ll go grab some wine.”

            As DJ disappeared into the kitchen, Michelle entered through the same door, drink in hand.

            “Oh, hey, it’s you two.”

            “Hey, Michelle,” Steve greeted. “Ready to lose?”

            “Uh, excuse me, I live in New York. I’ve _met_ celebrities,” she retorted, referring to the game of Celebrity they planned to play. She perched herself on the arm of the chair next to Steve. “I’m gonna crush you all.”

            The doorbell rang again, to another chorus of, “It’s always open!”

            Gia strutted in, all purple crop-top and black leather jacket. Behind her, a girl about Jackson’s age stomped in wearing black combat boots and too much eyeliner – basically a miniature version of Gia.

            “Hey, Steph.” Gia glanced around the room, eyes immediately locking onto Michelle. “Hey, it’s Little Michelle.”

            “Gross, it’s Gia Mahan.” Michelle rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

            Gia rose an eyebrow in challenge. “For your information, I was invited.” She stepped down from the landing and studied Michelle, eyes dragging up the other woman’s form.

            Her _sister’s_ form. Stephanie fought the urge to gag and instead focused on the positive of it – maybe they _were_ soulmates, and this Game Night of Awkward wouldn’t be all for nothing.

            Stephanie swore she saw Gia’s pupils dilate. “Boy, you sure aren’t little anymore.”

            Michelle tugged her short skirt down and stood, but her response was cut off by DJ reentering the room.

            “Oh, _Gia_ ,” she greeted, bitterness dripping from her words. “Hi. Can I offer you a drink?”

            Gia held up a six-pack and a bottle of Coke that Stephanie hadn’t noticed before. “I brought beer and Coke.” She set it on the coffee table. “Feel free to help yourselves, guys.”

            DJ’s eyes widened as she threw her arms out to both sides. “No one’s doing cocaine!”

            Everyone in the room shot DJ a disbelieving look. _Really_?

            “Deej,” Stephanie said, gesturing to the soda. “Coke. It’s _right_ there.”

            “Oh,” DJ breathed, taking in the sight of the bottle and sighing in both relief and embarrassment. “Right. Coke. That – that’s fine. That’s – thanks. Thanks, Gia.”

            Gia put a hand on her hip. “Do you really think I’d bring cocaine to a family game night?”

            Before DJ could apologize – or make things worse – footsteps descended the staircase, accompanied by a loud, drawn-out, “Who’s ready for game night?”

            Stephanie turned to find her soulmate – _no, just Kimmy_ – dressed in a games-inspired outfit. Her colorful polka-dot skirt resembled a Twister mat, and little mini dominoes hung from her ears.

            Stephanie still hadn’t gotten around to telling her yet. Each time she got geared up to do it, the timing never felt right. Something always happened to interrupt them, and a few times – okay, more than a few – she just chickened out. This was big – so big – that she couldn’t just drop it into casual conversation. How was she supposed to explain that she’d known for all this time, especially with Kimmy’s mark out in the open as it was?

            “Kimmy and I are going to _beat you all_ ,” Fernando announced and, oh yeah, he must have come from upstairs, too. Ramona and Lola trailed behind them, already nursing a couple of root beers.

            Instead of acknowledging Fernando, Stephanie opted to tease Kimmy – at least _that_ didn’t have to get weird.

            “Did you come straight from Candy Land?” Stephanie asked, eyeing Kimmy’s neon shirt that read _Team Gibbler_ in sequins.

            Kimmy ignored her, though, in favor of approaching Steve and Matt with a mischievous grin. “Hey there, _soulmates._ ”

            Matt and Steve furrowed their brows at Kimmy’s sickly-sweet grin and nodded at her. “Hey, Kimmy.”

            “It’s so great that you’re _soulmates_ ,” she continued, and Stephanie wondered what was up with her attitude until she spoke again. “Have you guys thought about your soulmate party yet?”

            “Uh,” Matt stammered. “Not – not really…”

            “Because Gibbler Style can meet all of your soulmate party needs – from invitations, to the music and decorations, to framed pictures of your Soulmate Marks…”

            The men glanced at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation – or rather, _argument_ , if their facial expressions were any indication – before Steve shrugged. “You know, we really aren’t thinking about it yet. Maybe another time…”

            “Really, though,” Kimmy persisted. “Consider all that Gibbler Style could do for you. We have special packages for you to choose from, including – ”

            Thank the powers that be for Ramona.

            “Ooo, beer!” she exclaimed, eying up the six-pack Gia had brought.

            “ _Drop that beer!_ ” Kimmy screeched, abandoning her sales pitch to perform a poorly-executed somersault across the floor and swipe the bottle from Ramona’s hands.

            “Mom, that’s my root beer!”

            Kimmy examined the bottle in her hand. “Oh.” With a shrug, she passed it back. “Here you go.”

            “Okay, I think all adult drinks should go on this table over here.” DJ picked up the six-pack and set it, along with the bottle of wine, on the table beneath the TV. As Kimmy returned to Steve’s side, DJ tried to get everyone rounded up. “Has anyone seen – ”

            Just then, the kitchen door opened again, pushed ajar by Max’s back as he tugged Jackson along by the hand.

            “C’mon, Jackson! It’s game night! You’re _supposed_ to be my partner!”

            Jackson firmly resisted his brother and grabbed the door frame in a weak attempt to keep himself out of the room.

            “No, I’m too old for some stupid – ” He stopped midsentence as he spotted Gia’s daughter Rocki across the room. “Oh no, not _Satan_.”

            Rocki chuckled as she crossed her arms and stepped towards them. “Hey, Fuller. Afraid I’m gonna put a spell on you?” She spread out her fingers at him as if she were casting a curse, from which Jackson recoiled.

            “Well, Jackson, if you don’t want to be _Max’s_ partner, you can partner with Rocki!” DJ suggested.

            Both eyed each other with disdain while responding in unison: “Ew!”

            Jackson turned to his brother and offered a hand. “Max, we can be partners.”

            “All right!”

            DJ clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, everybody’s here, so let’s pair up.”

            Michelle narrowed her eyes and looked between her sisters. “Wait, isn’t there anyone else coming?”

            DJ shook her head. “Nope, not unless Stephanie invited anyone _else_ I should know about.”

            Stephanie shook her head. “Nope. And actually, I was thinking Gia and Michelle could be partners.”

            Michelle’s eyes widened in realization.

            “Wait,” Gia argued, oblivious. “You invited me _and_ Rocki. I thought she and I were gonna be partners.”

            Rocki turned to face her mom and tilted her head. “Can I go home? I’ll pay for my own Uber.”

            “What? No. We came to have family game night with the Tanners. You’re staying.”

            “Mom, I don’t _wanna_ play some stupid game.”

            “Rocki – ”

            “Hang on,” DJ interrupted, shifting through everything on the coffee table to dig out her laminated score cards. “What if Rocki was the scorekeeper? You don’t have to play, and you get to make everything official…”

            “I’m listening,” Rocki replied.

            DJ shrugged. “That’s it. That’s all I got.”

            Rocki considered it for a moment before shrugging and taking the cards from DJ. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

            “Great!” DJ exclaimed, happy with herself for solving the dilemma.

            “Wait a second,” Gia pressed, still confused at why she’d been paired with Michelle. “Steph, why can’t you and I smoke everyone else out?”

            “Just,” Stephanie replied, holding out her hands in a _calm down_ sort of motion. “Let’s go with it, okay? Deej, you and I will be partners.”

            “Okay,” DJ replied, “but you know I’ve never lost a game night. I’m not about to start now.”

            As everyone settled around the room, Stephanie fought the urge to groan. Michelle better appreciate this.

            DJ sorted the pairs into two teams for their first game – Pictionary. Max insisted he go first, and as he made his way to the front of the group, Stephanie felt a buzz in her pocket.

            _Gia Mahan? You’ve got to be kidding me._

            She glanced across the room, where Michelle was shooting her a disbelieving stare.

            Stephanie shrugged, texting back: _She has a lightning mark. Idk if it’s the same but at least give it a chance._

            A moment later, Stephanie watched Michelle check her phone, type out another text, and stow her phone away.

            _Fine. If it’s not her, I’m officially taking you off the mission._

            Stephanie fought the urge to snort as she quickly put her phone in her pocket – DJ would probably rip their heads off for texting during games.

            The first few turns went fairly well. The adults let the kids go first, all of them earning a decent amount of points for their respective teams. Michelle and Gia mysteriously connected, rattling off clues and answers back and forth without giving the rest of their team a chance to jump in. By far, the best players were Matt and Steve – the guys far surpassed everyone else, seeming to have a secret language that allowed them to guess each other’s hints within a single word or phrase.

            Stephanie drew a card and stepped up to the whiteboard.

            Good grief. She glanced up at her team – DJ, Ramona, Lola, Kimmy, and Fernando. They were never going to get these.

            “Ready…” Max drawled, holding the timer up for dramatic effect. “Go!”

            She started to draw her first item: a circle, a line drawn up from its center, and –

            “Unicycle!”

            Stephanie glanced out to the crowd, finding Kimmy’s blue eyes lit up in excitement. She hadn’t even begun to draw the seat or the pedals yet, but she wasn’t going to complain about Kimmy’s quick answer. “Uh… yeah. Okay…”

            She started her next drawing: an octagon, then three vertical lines next to it, and an arrow making a loop toward the right.

            “Stop, drop and roll!”

            Kimmy again. Stephanie sensed a pattern forming, and her stomach clenched at the thought.

            “Uh, yes! All right, next one…”

            An oval with two circles in the middle and lines going out the sides –

            “Minions!”

            “Wow, okay…”

            Kimmy guessed the next three clues as quickly as the first – Stephanie barely got her marker on the board before Kimmy answered correctly.

            Stephanie started on her final drawing: a diamond with a dot in the middle, and a curved line going up and off to the side, and –

            “Graduation!”

            Stephanie’s eyes widened, disbelievingly, as she jabbed the butt of the marker at the diamond on the board.

            “Graduation cap!”

            She pitched the card somewhere to her side and threw out her palms. “Holy crap. _Kimmy!_ ”

            Kimmy flew towards her with an arm in the air, and Stephanie returned the high-five with a resounding _smack_.

            “Guess we’re just on the same wavelength, sister-wife.”

            The comment settled in her stomach like a boulder. _Same wavelength_? Suddenly, she worried what might happen if they continue to connect in the same way the other soulmates were connecting. What if someone figured it out?

            What if _Kimmy_ figured it out?

            The next few rounds went just as well for the soulmate pairs. Stephanie started purposely giving lousy answers to throw the others off their trail, which quickly became entertaining when Stephanie realized it also pissed off an ultra-competitive DJ. She enjoyed watching DJ fluster – until she got scolded for not understanding DJ’s supposed secret signals.

            As the group decided to change games, Gia grabbed her purse.

            “I need a cigarette.”

            DJ stood, aghast. “Excuse me?”

            “Don’t have a cow, DJ.” Gia pulled out a long, pink tube and waved it around. “It’s just a vape pen.”

            “Are you kidding me? There’s no smoking in this house.”

            “Relax! It’s not real smoke. _And_ , it smells like banana bread.” Gia took a puff and blew the vapor in DJ’s direction.

            “I don’t care what it – Oooh, that does smell fresh out of the oven,” DJ said as she stepped close to Gia. “But no, you can’t smoke in here. At least go outside.”

            Gia glanced at Stephanie, evidently hoping for backup, before returning her glare to DJ and huffing, “Fine.” She strode toward the kitchen door but stopped in her tracks as she caught sight of Michelle. Stephanie watched as Gia raised an eyebrow in her sister’s direction. “Hey, Little Michelle. You wanna come with?”

            Michelle glanced at Stephanie, the question ‘ _are you sure?_ ’ readable on her face. Stephanie nodded encouragingly.

            Looking back at Gia, Michelle shrugged. “Sure.”

            As Michelle stood and grabbed another beer, DJ dashed between the pair, throwing her arms out wide to block her sister’s path. “Don’t go with her! Just say no!”

            Michelle paused, glancing between DJ and Gia, before pushing DJ out of the way. “I’m not a kid anymore. C’mon, Gia.”

            The women pushed through the door, leaving the remaining adults to watch confusedly.

            “C’mon, DJ, it’s not that big a deal.”

            DJ crossed her arms as she sat back down, glancing scornfully at the door. “I don’t want her corrupting our little sister.”

            “Just let them go. We’ll play this one in pairs. If they’re not back by their turn, we’ll just skip them.”

            DJ grumbled, not liking the suggestion, but agreed that the game could continue. They went through everyone and got to Michelle and Gia, but the women hadn’t returned yet. At Stephanie’s suggestion, they skipped the pair’s turn and kept going. Stephanie wanted to give them as much time as possible – she didn’t want DJ barging into their conversation and potentially stopping them from talking or flirting or revealing Soulmate Marks.

            They skipped their turn again, and then again. They switched games again, and soon, it was nearly ten o’clock.

            Rocki stood. “All right. I don’t know about you all, but _I_ want to go to _bed_.” She dramatically held the score cards in front of her and read off the final standings. “Steve and Matt finish in first place, followed by Ramona and Lola, then Fernando and Kimmy, Max and Jackson, DJ and Stephanie, and _finally_ , the smokers who never returned.” She rolled her head in Stephanie’s direction. “Tell my mom I’ll be in the car.”

            And with that, Rocki stomped out the front door.

            “I’ll go grab those crazy kids,” Stephanie announced, slipping out of the room. She crossed through the kitchen, but before she could reach the back door, it opened up in front of her. Gia and Michelle reentered, the air between them changed distinctly from the subtle animosity previously there. They shared a small smile as Michelle held the door for Gia, and the pair maintained about an inch of distance between them as they shuffled through the kitchen.

            Gia noticed Stephanie and smiled at her. “I should probably get home.”

            “Yeah, Rocki said to tell you she’s waiting in the car.”

            “Was she pissed that I ditched her?”

            Stephanie lifted a shoulder. “I’d say dragging her to a family game night and then disappearing was not your best move.”

            Gia shrugged. “We’ll work it out. Thanks for inviting us.” She turned to face Michelle, who’d been trailing along behind her. “I’ll see you Friday?”

            Michelle grinned, a big, dopey grin that Stephanie didn’t recognize. “Yeah, Friday.”

            Then – and Stephanie didn’t think she imagined it – Gia leaned forward and kissed Michelle on the cheek before spinning and exiting through the living room.

            Michelle beamed at the door Gia had gone through, her expression resembling that of the heart-eyes emoji.

            Stephanie pointed between Michelle and the door. “What was that about?”

            Finally, Michelle looked at her, reaching across the counter to squeeze Steph’s shoulder. “Thanks, Steph.” Then, she turned to the basement stairs and started to head down.

            “Wait, that’s it? You’re not gonna tell me what happened?”

            Without pausing or looking back, Michelle shook her head. “Nope.”

*

            The next morning, Stephanie sat at the counter with her usual mug of coffee, watching Michelle discuss her vegetarianism with Max at the table.

            “So you don’t eat _any_ meat?”

            “Nope.”

            “What about bacon?”

            Michelle chuckled and shook her head. “Bacon counts as meat.”

            “What? How?”

            “Bacon comes from pigs, buddy.”

            Max furrowed his brow in thought. “I believe you’re thinking of ham.”

            Before Stephanie could chime in and tell him that _yes, both ham and bacon come from pigs_ , Kimmy skipped down the stairs in a purple tutu, blue leggings, and a neon pink top. Stephanie watched from her perch on the stool as Kimmy stumbled over her own two feet, clutching first the railing, then the counter, for support, until she successfully made her way to Stephanie.

            “You’ll never believe it!”

            “Uh, let me guess – they’re having a sale at Clowns R Us?”

            Michelle snickered. Kimmy rolled her eyes before beaming and holding up a thick, sky blue binder. “Steve and Matt asked Gibbler Style to plan their soulmate party!”

            As if suddenly remembering her daily ritual, Kimmy leaned in and kissed Stephanie on the cheek, making Stephanie’s heart skip a beat. A blush crept up her chest and neck, and _damn_ did Stephanie feel guilty about the soulmate thing.

            Michelle watched the exchange with a curious, amused face, clearly surprised at the gesture and entertained by Stephanie’s reaction. She’d slept in the past couple of days, so she missed all of their other good morning kisses. As Kimmy continued to skip over to the coffee machine, Stephanie tried to shoot Michelle a look that said _don’t ask_.

            “You’re right, I don’t believe it,” Stephanie said.

            “Well, believe it, Blondie.” Kimmy set her binder on the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Because I’m going to plan the gayest, most spectacular soulmate party San Francisco’s ever seen!”

            Michelle held up a finger. “Uh, is that what _they_ asked for?”

            Kimmy just beamed. Stephanie stared at her, unable to believe that, yes, she was _totally_ in love with this idiot.

*

            Stephanie and Kimmy spent the whole day planning.

            Well, Kimmy did. Stephanie supposed she snuck in more naps and breaks than actual work, but whatever. In this partnership, Kimmy had the ideas and Stephanie was the pack mule (and occasional voice of reason).

            Just like the last soulmate party they’d done, Kimmy was going all-out. The party would be camp-themed, since Matt and Steve revealed their marks during a camping trip in the woods, and it was planned for the following Saturday, so they only had a little over a week to prepare. They’d compiled a list of things for Stephanie to pick up at the store – door prizes and decorations and props for photo-taking and anything else they could possibly need at the party. Kimmy suggested hosting it right in the Tanner’s backyard, but Stephanie steered her away from _that_ idea, since the owner of said backyard had been dating both men pre-mark-reveal and that _might_ put a damper on the fun.

            Now, it was after dinner, and Stephanie found herself bound to one of the kitchen chairs – literally bound, with a jump rope tied around her ankle, leashing her to the leg of the chair. To be fair, Stephanie couldn’t quite blame Kimmy, after she’d disappeared so many times throughout the day, and even though Stephanie could undo the knot any time she wanted to, she found the whole situation pretty hilarious.

            And she’d had a (large) glass of wine, so she really didn’t notice that Kimmy’d fastened her there until she stood up to use the bathroom and nearly wiped out onto the floor.

            Michelle sat in a chair at the end of the table, feet propped up and gleefully watching Stephanie and Kimmy argue about decorations.

            “Okay, listen, do we _really_ need a rainbow balloon arch?”

            “Oh, c’mon. This party would not be complete without it.”

            “Can’t we get something a little more… artistic? At least maybe like a normal archway, with vines and leaves. That would fit in with the theme.”

            “But think of the _balloons_.”

            “Okay, I’m pretty sure Matt and Steve said they just wanted a simple – ”

            Michelle coughed. Loudly.

            Stephanie glanced over her shoulder. DJ had entered the kitchen, crossing to the sink and most likely intending to do the dishes. She paused upon seeing the other women, taking note of Kimmy’s binder and all its pages scattered about the table.

            “Oh. You guys don’t have to stop on my account.” DJ flipped on the faucet and rolled up her sleeves.

            Tilting her head and watching with concern, Stephanie asked, “Are you sure?”

            DJ shrugged, moving dishes around in the sink and laying out a towel on the counter. “They’re soulmates. Clearly we were all just wasting our time when they could’ve been together from the beginning.” She poured some soap into the sink and plugged the drain. “Go on. Plan. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

            None of the other women said a word, not wanting to offend DJ and also perhaps waiting to see if she’d change her mind. After letting the silence drone on for a few seconds, DJ spoke again.

            “It’s either this, or I go in depth about the surgery I performed on a tumor-ridden cat today.”

            Stephanie held up a finger and turned back to the table.

            “Planning it is.”

            As DJ busied herself with the dishes, Kimmy switched gears.

            “Okay, so,” she began, moving around a few papers until she found the one she’d been looking for and passed it to Stephanie. “I scheduled a photoshoot for Matt and Steve tomorrow evening. I need you to be there and make sure everything goes smoothly, especially the pictures of their Soulmate Marks.”

            “Sure, all right.” Stephanie raised her eyebrows at Michelle. “You wanna come? You’re a fashion designer – you should have plenty of experience running photoshoots.”

            Michelle shook her head. “I’m out. Gia and I have a date tomorrow night.”

            Kimmy’s jaw dropped in an ecstatic smile. “Holy cheese, that’s so exciting!”

            DJ reacted… about as expected.

            She flipped the faucet off and whirled around, giving Michelle the most flabbergasted look Stephanie’s ever seen.

            “You have a date with _Gia_?”

            “Yeah,” Michelle replied, taking her feet off the table and crossing her arms. “I think we’re gonna start off by raiding the Texaco station, then commit some mild property damage, and finish it off with some good ol’ fashioned armed robbery.”

            DJ gave Michelle an unamused look. “As long as you’re not vaping, then fine.” She scrunched her eyebrows in thought, as if realizing something. “Wait. So am I the only straight one here?”

            The other three glanced at each other, exchanging a few smirks and shrugging shoulders.

            Michelle spoke first. “Honestly, have you _seen_ women?”

            Kimmy made a grunt of agreement. “Oh, yeah, totally.” She motioned with her mug at Stephanie. “ _You_ know.”

            Good grief, were they _actually_ having this conversation right now?

            Stephanie stuttered. A warm blush crept up her neck and cheeks as she tried to stop her eyes from dropping down to Kimmy’s body. Good thing her wine glass was sitting on the table, because Stephanie was sure she would’ve spilled it. “Uh… yeah. Yeah, for sure.”

            She made the mistake of glancing at Michelle, who gave her a pointed look as if to say, _see, you could totally be together_.

            Keeping her eyes on Stephanie, Michelle smirked and spoke up. “I think DJ needs to have a little lesbian adventure of her own.”

            DJ flustered. “Uh, I do _not_.” She rinsed a pot and set it on the counter. “I’m perfectly fine sticking to men.”

            “Boring!” Kimmy droned, and _that_ came so unexpectedly that Stephanie could only stare as Kimmy continued shuffling papers around.

            And then, a complete 180.

            She tilted her head, a content smile creeping onto her face as she added, “Though I sure do love the things Fernando and I do together.”

            Stephanie threw up a hand, avoiding the thought of whatever the heck Kimmy and Fernando did in the bedroom and covering her heartache with friendly sass. “ _Please_ spare me the details.”

            Kimmy just waggled her eyebrows at Stephanie before digging out a couple of floor plans they’d drafted earlier.

            Michelle leaned forward, and though the mischievous smirk on her face should’ve been a warning, Stephanie didn’t think about stopping Michelle from speaking until the question was already out in the open.

            “Kimmy, what do you want _your_ soulmate party to look like?”

            Stephanie eyes widened. She blinked, hoping Kimmy hadn’t noticed, and gave Michelle a kick with her untethered leg.

            “Ow! What? She’s got her mark out. We’re already talking about soulmate parties.”

            Stephanie glanced at DJ, who for once in her life said nothing as she watched Kimmy and Stephanie from across the room, listening closely. Though Stephanie thought about cutting in and diverting the conversation, Michelle wasn’t showing any signs of actually telling Kimmy anything, and to be honest, she kind of wanted to hear Kimmy’s answer.

            Kimmy drummed her fingers on the table, oblivious to the tension in the room as she considered the question. “Definitely fireworks. Oh! And, ideally, New Kids on the Block would be there.” She turned her head and her gaze drifted to some unseen fantasy. “Weeping. Because though I am a magnificent peacock, they will all have to accept that I will never be theirs…”

            She returned her gaze to smile at Michelle. “And then they’d sing their hit single, ‘Finally Found You.’”

            Stephanie raised her brow, trying to imagine the picture Kimmy had created in her mind. “Finally Found You” was a common soulmate love ballad, but everything else was very Gibbler. “Okay… anything that might _actually_ happen at a soulmate party?”

            Kimmy scoffed. “Oh, c’mon. Joey McIntyre is dying to come to my soulmate party and you know it.”

            Stephanie and Michelle glanced at each other before giving her identical deadpan looks.

            Kimmy sighed, as if they were ridiculous, before scrunching her nose and tilting her head to give it some thought.

            “I don’t know. I think it’d depend on the person.”

            With a casual confidence Stephanie didn’t know she had, she surprised everyone, including herself, by letting the conversation dance dangerously close to the truth.

            “Okay, so… say it was me.”

            She could feel DJ and Michelle’s eyes on her but ignored them.

            Kimmy barked a laugh. “Yeah, good one.”

            Okay, ouch.

            Keeping her gaze on Kimmy, Stephanie hoped her poker face was stronger than she felt.

            “C’mon, humor me. If you were my soulmate, what would you want at our party?”

            Realizing Stephanie was serious, Kimmy studied her for a moment as she thought.

            “Well, we’d have to have it here at the house, of course. Maybe a bouncy house. All of the Tanners of course. Definitely alcohol.”

            Stephanie grinned at the last item. “Ah. You know me too well.”

            Kimmy smiled and returned the question. “What about you?”

            “Me?”

            Kimmy shrugged. “Yeah. What would you want at your soulmate party?”

            Stephanie’s heart raced in her chest. Crapcrapcrapcrap.

            She shrugged and picked at the corner of a paper in front of her, trying to pretend like she _wasn’t_ talking to her actual soulmate and that she was super, totally calm instead of quietly freaking out inside.

            “Uh… I dunno. Someone else to deejay, so I could spend the whole time with my soulmate.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Tequila.”

            Kimmy chuckled at that. Part of Stephanie screamed, _‘Tell her! Now!’_ Even if it happened in front of DJ and Stephanie, the timing couldn’t be better. They were talking about soulmates and soulmate parties. Stephanie could just say it, could pull off her bandana right here at the table and show her.

            But, of course, Stephanie’s prime real estate lay in inaction and messing everything up, so when the baby monitor went off and Tommy’s cries crackled through the plastic, Stephanie scooted her chair back.

            “I got it.”

            “No,” Michelle argued, also standing. “I got it.”

            DJ wiped her hands with a towel. “No, I’m his mother. I got it.”

            Forgetting about the fact that she was _tied to a chair_ , Stephanie made a mad dash for the stairs and fell right to the floor. DJ and Michelle hustled up the stairs and out of sight.

            Kimmy grinned smugly. “That’s what you get for trying to escape.”

            Stephanie turned to sit on her butt and untied the rope from her ankle. To her surprise, instead of being scolded for undoing the knot, a hand appeared in front of her face, palm side up. Rolling her eyes, she took Kimmy’s hand and let the woman help her back up.

            “Thanks.”

            Standing there in front of Kimmy, palms clasped, Stephanie studied her. She took in Kimmy’s strawberry blonde hair, tied up into a messy bun on top of her head with a few flyaways hanging in her face. She looked into Kimmy’s unknowing, friendly blue eyes.

            Her soft lips. Stephanie remembered that one time she kissed those lips.

            And she knew she just couldn’t.

            Stephanie had done a lot of wild and reckless things, but none of the risks she’d taken felt as high as this. She owed it to Kimmy to tell her, but suddenly faced with her soulmate, a person who’s supposed to love her forever and ever, a person who already platonically loves her forever and ever, a person who kisses her on the cheek every single morning, a person who’s already taken, who loves another man, who might not actually _choose_ her –

            Stephanie just couldn’t do it. It was too much.

            “I gotta pee,” she mumbled, a half-excuse that shouldn’t have worked but received a nod from Kimmy anyway. Her soulmate waved her off, so she scrambled up the stairs and took in a breath of tension-less air –

            Until she ran into Michelle halfway up, the younger blonde hovering just out of sight but well within earshot. Stephanie ushered her the rest of the way up.

            “So, everything good?” Michelle asked lamely.

            “Oh, don’t act like you weren’t listening.”

            In the hallway at the top of the stairs, Stephanie threw her hands onto her hips, about to rip Michelle a new one, when DJ appeared from Tommy’s room and yanked on Stephanie’s elbow.

            She tried to resist, but Michelle pushed her from behind until all three women stood in the nursery.

            “What is this, an intervention?”

            DJ bounced Tommy on her hip and gave her a stern look. “What are you doing up here?”

            Instead of answering, Stephanie indicated Tommy with her chin. “Is the kid okay?”

            “Don’t change the subject!” DJ argued. She paused. “But for your information, he’s fine.”

            “Can we focus, people?” Michelle cut in, turning to Stephanie. “What was that? You had the perfect opportunity to tell her, and instead you scurried away, all ‘I-gotta-pee’ like a total coward!”

            “So?” Stephanie challenged, crossing her arms defensively. “It just… it wasn’t the right time, you know?”

            “Yeah, we know,” DJ shot back. “It wasn’t the right time at the bachelorette party, or the wedding...”

            “…or the barbeque, or after games, or even just now when the subject had already been brought up,” Michelle finished. “So when _is_ the right time?”

            “I don’t know!”

            “’Cause the longer you put this off, the worse it’s gonna get.”

            “Yeah,” Michelle tacked on. “She already wants a billboard. Next she’s gonna want a spot on daytime TV.”

            “Oh, c’mon, Kimmy _always_ wants a spot on TV.”

            “Steph,” DJ said seriously. “You’ve gotta tell her.”

            “Can you just lay off?” Stephanie was starting to get pissed, so she fired a shot at DJ she knew would hit hard. “You’re only focused on me because you’re trying to forget about Matt and Steve.”

            DJ’s jaw dropped.

            Stephanie gestured to Michelle “And _you’re_ only focused on me, what, for shits and giggles? Maybe you should be thinking about how you’re gonna make it work with Gia when you’re on the other side of the country!”

            Michelle’s eyes flared with anger.

            DJ pressed harder. “You’re gonna have to tell her at some poi-”

            “Tell her what?” Stephanie interrupted. “Okay, so we’re soulmates. Why does that matter?”

            “It matters because she’s out there, doing everything she can do to find her soulmate when you’re right here!” DJ argued. “She _postponed_ her _wedding_ for you.”

            “You think I don’t know that? You think it’s not constantly in the back of my head every time I look at her? Reminding me that, yes, for some godforsaken reason, fate decided to make me and Kimmy Gibbler soulmates?”

            Michelle’s eyes widened, but Stephanie didn’t stop. She needed DJ to get it into her brain that Stephanie’s life was not hers to mess with.

            “Screw fate. It’s not like anything’s gonna happen between us anyway. This isn’t a freaking movie.” She advanced on DJ, whose eyes were equally as wide as Michelle’s. “We’re not gonna fall in love and live happily ever after, all right? She may be your weird walnut brain of a best friend, but she’s _my_ soulmate, so for once in your life, can you just let _me_ deal with my own shit?”

            DJ’s gaze was set on something over Stephanie’s shoulder. She spoke quietly. “Stephanie.”

            She turned. And instantly regretted it.

            Kimmy stood just behind her, clutching the baby monitor in her hands and watching the exchange with an expression of shock and hurt.

            A beat passed. Stephanie forgot how to breathe.

            “…you?” Kimmy asked quietly. “You’re my soulmate?”

            Stephanie took a step towards her, realizing all too late how badly she’d fucked up.

“Kimmy.”

            Kimmy stepped back, away from Stephanie – away, away, _away_ – and dropped her eyes to Stephanie’s wrist. “Take off your bracelet.”

            Embarrassment and guilt flooded through Stephanie as she took in Kimmy’s forlorn expression. DJ and Michelle remained silent.

            When Stephanie didn’t move, Kimmy spoke again, voice harder and harsher.

            “Take it off.”

            The second command hit Stephanie right in the gut, and _fuck, fuck, fuck,_ the anger in her voice finally sent her back into action. She hesitantly reached for the leather cuff and unsnapped it, revealing the jasmine mark with deep magenta lines.

            Kimmy studied it for a moment, then brought her eyes back to Stephanie’s.

            “You knew we were soulmates, and you didn’t tell me?”

            “I’m sorry. I wanted to – I –”

            Kimmy threw up a hand. “You know what? Save it. You’ve said enough already.” She turned on her heel and disappeared into the hallway and down the stairs.

            “No, Kimmy, please! Let me explain!” Stephanie moved to follow her, but stopped to advance on DJ. “You see what you did? This is what happens when you meddle. From now on, just leave me alone!”

            She raced down to the kitchen just in time to hear the back door slam.


End file.
